


I’ll be Home for Christmas (Back from the Dead)

by Insanefangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel saved Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Has PTSD, Dean Winchester is Sam Winchester's Parent, F/M, Human Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Modern AU, PTSD, Teenage Sam Winchester, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Veteran Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:21:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 35,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28386939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insanefangirl/pseuds/Insanefangirl
Summary: All Sam Winchester wants for this Christmas is his big brother back from the dead after supposedly  being blown up on his first tour in Afghanistan. Some times miracles do happen.But what do you do after a miracle?You have to put yourself back together, at least so Sam and Dean are learning. When they meet an odd stranger in a worn trench coat they may also begin to learn that some times good things do happen.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Castiel, Ellen Harvelle/Bobby Singer, Mary Winchester/John Winchester
Comments: 25
Kudos: 164





	1. All I want for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Unedited so leave me alone

Christmas is a stupid holiday. The whole month of December is stupid. Scratch that. The entire holiday season is stupid. 

At least so thinks sixteen year old Sam Winchester. His floppy hair hides his face as he hovers over his textbook. The semester finals are two weeks after school starts again after winter break. Sam plans to spend the entire week and a half studying on thing or another. 

“Sam?” Well that is his plan. His parents have other thoughts. “Want to help make Christmas cookies? We can make gingerbread.” 

“No, thank you.” Sam says into his textbook. He hears his mother sigh before shutting the door behind her. 

Sam sniffs his nose and tries to read the small text through his watering eyes. The necklace under his shirt feels like an anvil. He wraps a hand around it and squeezes until the teeth of the keys bite into his palm.

Minutes or hours pass, Sam isn’t sure. Eventually his dad comes up to his room. He isn’t sure what his dad is excepting.

“Samm-“ Sam flinches. “Sam, I know this year is going to be hard, but it’s already hard enough on your mother. The least we can both do is put on a good face.” 

Sam is silent. He hasn’t talked to his father since the news came. The last words echo in his head. 

“It’s your fault he’s dead.” That’s what Sam had screamed at his dad’s face when the men in uniform had come to their door. Benny and Lee, Sam had recognized them from Dean’s letters. The letters that had stopped. 

Now four months later Sam has yet to utter a single word to his father. He has only just started to speak to his mother. Four months later he is still mad. 

Pissed. Is more like it. Sam is pissed. He’s pissed Dad pushed Dean to join the marines like he did right out of high school. He is pissed at Dean for agreeing. He is pissed at Mom for not stopping him. He is pissed at Dean for assuring Sam he’d be back and he’d be safe. He’s pissed Dean gave him the impala keys. He’s pissed at whoever set the IED. He’s pissed at God. He’s just pissed. 

Now his dad sits at the edge of his bed trying to get Sam to act like everything is fine. As if there was not going to be a missing person at the table. 

“Sam, come on buddy. I know you’re hurting but you got to try to heal. Dean wouldn’t want you to sit around and sulk.” 

Dean wouldn’t want Dad to sit around and drink as much as he does. He wouldn’t want Mom to disappear for days. Dean wouldn’t want to be dead. 

“Samuel!” John Winchester has lost his patience. “I except you downstairs to help make cookies and I except you at down for Christmas dinner and I except you to be pleasant.” 

Silence. Finally Sam mutters a “yes sir” that seems to take the wind out of his dad’s sails. 

“It’s going to get easier, Sam.” He isn’t sure if it was for Sam’s benefit or his father’s. Either way it seems paper thin. 

With a brief squeeze to the shoulder and a bone weary sigh Sam is alone in his room again. 

He stays there, pretending to study while his mind refuses to register anything on the page. 

Finally he leaves his room for the kitchen. He flinches when that one floorboard creaks just before he enters the kitchen.

The smile that fills his mom’s face when she looks up fills him with guilt. He puts a timid smile on his face and lets his dad ruffle his hair. 

They roll out the dough. Sam refuses to make ninja-bread man or Batman out of the dough. He uses the traditional cutouts like men, Santa, trees, and stars. Dean would call him boring then he would break off the limbs and call them zombie bread men. 

Mom kisses the flour covered stubble on Dad’s face. For a split second everything feels normal. Until no one says eww with him when his Dad kisses his Mom. 

He eats two cookies heads first just like Dean taught him. The heads are the best part. Then he disappears into his room again not to emerge again until supper. 

Christmas arrives with a blizzard. Sam used to run into Dean’s room at 7:00 to give him whatever present he had made at school or scrounged up.

Now at 7:00 he sits on his brother’s vacant bed. The room has been untouched. No one can bring themselves to move his stuff so everything was just as he left it. 

Lead Zeppelin posters on the wall, wrestling medals and trophies on to of a bookshelf full of old books by Vonnegut and the like. 

The hardest part is the pictures. Mom with Dean’s head smiling from her shoulder is tucked into the frame of the mirror. Next to it is Dean with baby Sam in his arms. Others litter the mirror of their family. It hurts. 

Sam stays there until his mom calls him down for breakfast and presents. He prepares to spend the rest of the day smiling and speaking at the right time. 

Jo is smiling too brightly and trying too hard to talk to Sam. Clearly Aunt Ellen and Uncle Bobby had asked her to be nice to him. 

Dinner is uneventful. Sam had never noticed how much space his brother used to take up. He had never appreciated the constant stream of noise from his brother to prevent any awkward silences. 

Now Mom asks about the scape yard and the restaurant. Sam isn’t sure why. Nothing has changed since they last saw them three weeks ago. 

Ellen asks about school. Sam tells her it’s fine. Grandpa Samuel asks about girls. Sam tells him he’s single and no, there isn’t a crush. 

Grandpa Samuel seems to really be into marrying off his grandchildren ever since Grandma Deanna died three years ago. Jo squishes her face all tight while blushing firetruck red. Dean used to smirk and say he wasn’t going to settle down for a long while. 

“So Sam,” Uncle Bobby is now trying for Sam’s attention after the fascinating subject of gas prices, “have you driven the impala yet?”

Sam flinches. He hasn’t driven since Dean died. His brother had been teaching him before he left. He had told Sam to practice while he was gone so they could have a second driver for their road trip they were going to take when Sam graduated high school. 

Now Sam can barely look at the car, let alone drive it. He took his test with his dad’s giant pick up truck. The keys to the impala hung heavy the entire time. 

“No, sir.” Sam says to his mashed potatoes drowning in the gravy Jo had poured when she realized Sam had plans of eating them plain. 

“How about sometime this break you ‘n me will take it out. Give it a tune up and such.” Everyone at the table nod and smile at the idea like it’s a possible cure for cancer. 

“Sounds great.” Sam forces a smile through the mouthful of potatoes. 

“H-“ The doorbell rings, cutting off whatever Ellen was going to say. 

Figuring it is Benny, Lee, or carolers, Sam ignores it and picks at his food. Now the gravy has flooded his plate. It’s causing mass chaos because the carrots don’t have flood insurance. Sam smiles softly at his little story.

The stuffing planned ahead and has full coverage because the dad is a paranoid old man. He’s so absorbed in wondering if the stuffing neighbors will help out the carrots or leave them to the it fate he almost doesn’t notice the gasp from his father who had opened the door. 

When Dad calls out a tentative “Mary?” Mom leaves for whoever is at the door. She isn’t gone very long when one of her sobs Sam has grown accustom to rings through the quiet house. Everyone gets up and leaves the table in curiosity. 

The door is open, allowing the chilly winter air into the too warm house. His mom is standing with her backs to us and a man in a tight hug. His dad is off to the side as if he has seen a ghost. The mystery man has his face tucked into his Mom’s neck. 

“It’s okay, mom.” The stranger says and Sam’s heart stops. 

“De-“ the name gets caught in his throat so he tries a second time. “Dean?” 

The man unsticks from Mom and Sam finds himself looking into spring green eyes. His eyes drop to the man’s chest to see the horned amulet Sam had given his brother for Christmas years ago. 

“Hey, Sammy.” 

That is all Sam needs. He detaches himself from the husk he has been walking around in and throws himself into Dean. 

He‘s shorter, at least he seems that way as Sam tucks himself under Dean’s chin. He smells like cheap shampoo and sweat but in all honesty it’s the best thing he’s smelt in his entire life. 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you missed me or something.” Dean pulls away and smiles but his voice cracks and the corners of his eyes have tears in them. 

Dean pulls him in a tight again. Sam is crushed to his brother’s chest and it feels like he can breath again. 

“You gonna share? Or are we just chopped liver?” Bobby gruffs but he has tears streaming down his face. 

Dean is passed around to give hugs. Sam attaches himself to his brother’s side like when he was little. 

“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, son.” Dad says wiping at his eyes. 

“But it can wait until after you eat.” Mom says, eyeing Dean’s thin, almost gaunt frame. His brother had always been tall and strong, a slight bull he had acquired from wrestling through high school. 

They all sit back down, almost hesitantly. It’s awkward. Mom serves Dean a large plate heaping with food and he nibbles at it tentatively. Sam remembers reading something somewhere about people who have been starved or malnourished needing to eat slow and not very much otherwise they’ll just throw it all back up. He had never thought this fact would apply to his brother. 

The family tries not to stare at Dean while he eats. It’s eerily quiet with only the sound of silverware of plates. What’s there to say until Dean fills them in? Sam gives up trying not to stare and openly tries to memorize his brother and take in this miracle. 

Under his scrutiny Sam can see Dean’s right hand give a slight tremor. His brother his trying and failing to conceal the continuous shaking as the hand grips the fork with white knuckles. He can see Dean wince every time his shoulder moves. A glance down tells Sam that his brother’s knee is bouncing with anxiety. Green eyes flash around the room every now and then towards the exits in the room. 

Still even with all the differences he’s still Dean. He gives Sam that lopsided smile when he catches his eye. He rubs at the back of his neck, a nervous tick, under everyone’s not so subtle hawk like observing. 

Dean finishes his food and no one offers him the pie sitting in the kitchen. Everyone else had finished long ago and has been picking at their spotless plates until now. 

“Okay, um...” Dean finally sets his fork down and seems unsure where to set his gaze. 

“Why don’t we move to the living room?” Ellen suggests. Sam likes that suggestion and immediately attaches himself to his brother’s side as they move to the couch. 

“Uh, where do I start?” Dean bites at his finger nails while he thinks. 

“How ‘bout the beginning?” Grandpa Samuel suggests impatiently. 

“Right, um,” Dean’s knee is back to bouncing. If Sam wasn’t so curious he would insist they save the explanation for another day. He is though. He needs answers, so he presses his thigh to Dean’s and waits. “I was, what, Six months into my tour? About that, and we were just going on patrol. It was just a normal patrol along the outside of this village we were near. We hit something and there was a blast. I remember the heat, and the ringing, and the -the screams.”

Dean presses the heels of his hands into his eyes and takes a shuddering breath. It is surreal. They didn’t do feelings in this family. The Winchester, Campbells, and the Singers, you don’t talk about your emotions. You stow your crap and move on. 

Sam has always wanted to talk things out, not do the unhealthy thing and lock it all away. Now with Dean’s shuddering breaths and bouncing knee he selfishly wants it locked away. He wants Dean to lock in deep within himself and pretend he’s fine. 

“I woke in some shithole. That’s it. There were a couple other people I recognized from both the village and the base. Anyway I was kept there for awhile, um, four months I guess. Then there was an explosion and some guy with blue eyes...” Dean seems to lose himself within his head for a few moments before he sharply snaps back. “Then I woke up in the med. tent. and I was sent home under honorary discharge.” 

There’s more. Sam can see it sizzle underneath Dean’s skin. Instead of saying anything more, his brother smiles and asks about pie. 

Sam spends the rest of the long night attached to his brother. Everyone talks about what has happened the last four months. Looking back nothing has happened. It has only been four months, that’s not enough time for anything substantial to happen. 

That night Sam lays awake in his own bed. His ears are trained for the slightest sound coming from Dean’s room. He listens past the murmurings coming from his parent’s room, past the settling of the house, to the room just across the hall. 

Sometime after two in the morning a short scream is heard from Dean’s room. Sam is on his feet and across the hall in a second. His bare feet pad quickly against the fuzzy carpet. 

“Dean?” Sam calls from the door he cracked open. He has read enough about PTSD to know not to walk up to his brother. “Dean?”

“Sammy?” Dean’s voice is rough, from either sleep for screaming, Sam isn’t sure. “What is it?” 

Instead of answering Sam climbs into his brother’s bed like when he was little. Now he curls himself into a ball at his brother’s side. He’s bigger now, they both are and it’s not as comfortable having two almost fully grown boys in a twin sized bed, but they twist together to make it work. 

“Dean?” A grunt is all Sam gets in return. “Are you okay?”

“I will be.” 

The two brother’s lay in a child’s bed in the dark, neither feeling much like children anymore. One falls asleep eventually, the other stares at the darkened ceiling, trying to convince himself that it is his little brother next to him and not a corpse.


	2. Blue Eyed Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is adjusting to civilian life. Everyone seems to be ready for him to race through recovery, both mental and physical, and jump back into his old self but Dean just wants to catch his breath. That doesn’t happen when the stranger who saved his life is pacing anxiously outside his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually just going to be a 1 or 2 chapter thing and now I’m not really sure where it’s going but it’s going some where

Adjusting. It’s an odd word. It’s one that’s being overused these days. His stomach is adjusting to eating actual food in adequate amounts. His shoulder is adjusting after the muscles have been damaged, the nerve endings burned, the tendons snapped, beyond repair. His mind is adjusting to not being prey stuck in a cage. 

At least that’s what his therapist keeps telling him. He’s been back five days and already he has had both a physical and mental therapy appointment. 

His physical therapist Dr. Mills who he actually likes, forcefully recommended her friend who also happens to be a therapist when she realized Dean had no motives to go to any sort of psychologist. A Dr. Mosley who insists Dean call her Missouri. 

He doesn’t mind Missouri simply isn’t ready to talk about...any of it. It’s been two weeks since he’s been freed by the blue eyed stranger. Everybody thinks he needs to be ready for something or another. 

Dad is already looking at him disappointedly, waiting for him to get off his butt and get a job. Sam wants him to talk, he wants Dean to bear his soul and trama to Missouri and be fixed. 

Sam. 

His little brother who isn’t so little anymore. Dad opened that door when he first came home and everyone had looked older and smaller. Everyone except for Sammy who was now Dean’s height. 

His little brother who has sat in the waiting room of every single one of Dean’s appointments. He’s worried that Sam is waiting on the day Dean walks out of one of the rooms completely fine. Dean doesn’t think he’s going to be fine for a very long time if ever again. 

The way Sam has been practically glued to Dean’s side since the moment he got home makes Dean wonder what Sam is going to do when he has to go back to school. There is no take your broken brother to school day. 

Now Sam is driving Baby, he had nervously admitted to not driving since Dean’s falling off the grid. Dean is making up for it by making him drive wherever they go. Not they go too many places. Besides Dean’s appointments they really just drove down backroads with no destination just like they used to. 

“Don’t ride the breaks!” Dean chides with his arm thrown casually over the driver’s backrest. 

Sam rolls his eyes but lessens his pressure on the break pedal. They were two hours into the it drive and have just begun to turn the roaring impala towards home. 

“Hey, Dean?” Dean braces himself for whatever Sam is about say. Today has been such a good day. It’s the first time Dean has been able to eat his lunch without feeling queazy. It’s a mild winter day with sun sparkling on the snow so he’s go his window crack. His shoulder is a kind of sore you get from working it instead of the normal shooting pains. 

For the first time since he has gotten back he doesn’t feel panicked. He feels content and the small smile on his face is one of content. 

Sam must read some of this in his eyes, he’s good at that, because instead he asks for the box of cassette tapes that rest underneath the passenger seat. 

“Sure.” Dean complies with relief. 

At least until Sam ejects the AC/DC tape, tosses it into the box, and flips to a country music station. 

“Hell no.” Dean moves to put a tape back in but Sam’s hand covers the radio. 

“What’s the rule, Dean?” Sam asks him cheekily. 

“Seniority rules.” Dean protests and smacks his brother’s hand but he’s relentless. 

“What’s the rule?” Sam’s voice becomes sing-song. 

“Your music sucks.” Dean relents with a grumble. 

“Sweet home Alabama!” Sam bellows at the top of his lungs. 

“You can’t sing either!” Dean shouts back. 

“Lord I’m Comin’ home to you!” Sam sings off pitch with the biggest smile Dean has seen on his face in a long time. 

He makes a show of rolling his eyes and covering his ears as Sam howls through this song and the next. He relishes the smile on both their faces and the laughter in the car. 

The cheery mood is dampened by a rusted blue pick up truck parked in front of their house. A man wearing a trench coat is pacing at the top of their driveway. Dean’s hackles are immediately raised and he can feel Sam practically bare his teeth next to him. 

Sam pulls into the driveway and throws Baby in park. He just about rips the keys out of the ignition. Before Dean can even reprimand him, his little brother his bouncing from the car and stalking towards the man. 

Dean scrambles out of the car. The man actually looks frightened by the lumbering, baby faced beanpole coming at him like a scrape yard dog. As Sam gets closer Dean can see that his not so little brother is actually about an inch taller than the man. 

“Are you Dean Winchester?” The man asks, daring to take his eyes off of Sam to look towards Dean. 

He gasps. Those blue eyes. Those very blue eyes that have been haunting his dreams. The man looks different then when he had last seen him. Then again they both did. Without dirt, grime, and blood marring his features Dean probably looked different to the man. 

“What do you want?” Sam growls, Dean shortens the distance from the other two and places a hand on Sam’s shoulder and a sharp look. 

“I’m, I uh...” The man fiddles with his trench coat sleeve and Dean can feel both Sam’s and his own patience waning. “I’m the one who lead the squad for your rescue. Well, it was a rescue for all the prisoners but... you’re the only one who survived.” 

Dean’s breath is ripped from his lungs, escaping into the winter air. He recalls the young girl who’s cell was next to Dean’s whom he would tell stories to and she would listen even if she didn’t speak English. He remember the old man who refused Dean’s dinner when Dean had tried to throw it across the way to him. He remembered the British man who would quote Bible verses even as he was beaten for not quieting down. 

All dead. 

“I just.. wanted to make sure you were okay and give my condolences for leaving you in there for so much longer then should have been necessary. I failed you, your family, and your fellow prisoners.” The man looks straight into Dean’s eyes and Dean can tell the man has military background. 

“It’s okay.” Because what else is he supposed to say? 

There’s an long silence where no one knows what to say. Sam has dropped the guard dog demeanor and is toeing at a chip of cement in their driveway. 

“Thank you for saving my brother.” Sam says, stepping forward with an outstretched hand and a tentative smile. 

“You’re welcome.” The man says and returns Sam’s handshake. “I should be going.” The man moves to walk past Dean and his brother towards his pick up. 

“Wait!” Dean doesn’t realize the words came from him until both the man and Sam are looking at him. “Um, would you like lunch?” 

“I wouldn’t want to impose.” The stranger says, eyes darting to the front door of the house. 

“It’s no problem.” Sam jumps in. “Dean’s a great cook.” 

“Really I-“

“You saved my life, it’s the least I can do, right?” Dean feels the smile on his face he used to use to ask for the homework answers from whoever was sitting next to him girl or boy they tended to blush and help him out. 

“I suppose.” The man hesitantly agrees. 

“Great!” Sam leads the way inside while Dean lingers to wait for the man. 

“What’s your name?” Dean asks as they walk shoulder to shoulder towards the door. 

“Castiel. First Sargent Castiel Novak.” The man -Castiel supplies.


	3. A Bowl of Strange Melancholy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stranger with blue eyes -Castiel- is odd and a little awkward. Dean isn’t sure he can handle the odd emotions stirring along with the other clusterfuck in his head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kinda short, sorry. The last one was a little short to so I promise a bit longer chapters in the future

Dean decides on grilled cheese and tomato soup. It really isn’t anything to show off his cooking abilities, but it’s quick, easy, and comfort foods have become just that -a comfort to him. He tells Sam to pour the can of soup into the pot and mix while he slices cheese. He recruits Castiel for buttering bread and layering cheese onto the sandwiches. 

He’s glade neither of his parents are home. His dad is at work at the auto shop. While his mom is supposably at her father’s in Nebraska. 

“So, Cas,” Dean drawls as the first grilled cheese begins to sizzle on the pan. “Where ya from?”

“Pontiac, Illinois.” Castiel supplies. He hasn’t removed the trench coat and the way he’s picking at the sleeves anxiously Dean doesn’t think he will. 

“Yeah?” Dean hums in interest as he turns down the heat on the burner. “You got family there?”

“My parents are, but my siblings are in Chicago.” 

Dean grunts in acknowledgment and flips the grilled cheeses. He isn’t sure what else to say so he lets the sound of sizzling bread and whisking fill the air. 

“So when did you get back?” Sam asks as he begins to pour soup into three bowls. 

“This morning.” Castiel says. 

“So you haven’t seen your family yet?” Dean’s eyebrows are raised. 

“They don’t want to see me.” Castiel has a grim smile on his face as he accepts his plate and bowl. 

“Sure they do.” Dean tries to reassure while carrying his own loaded plate and bowl to the kitchen table. 

“I’ll go home eventually.” Castiel drops the subject and takes a large bite of his sand which. “This is very good, Dean, thank you.” 

“It’s nothing.” Dean shrugs but feels his ears burn under the compliment. 

“Dean’s a really good cook.” Sam adds after swallowing a spoonful of soup. “He makes the best pancakes and burgers.” 

“Who did you learn from?” Castiel seems to be genuinely interested. 

“No one really. I picked it up from different books and whatnot.” Dean shrugs again. 

“It’s impressive, personally I struggle to boil water.” Castiel gives a tentative smile that Dean returns with a small laugh. 

Castiel stays for lunch and helps with cleanup. He gives little smiles and soft laughs that Dean finds contagious. 

Dean walks Castiel to his pick up. Dean has his hands in his jacket pockets fiddling with a slip of paper and his bottom lip between his teeth. He rubs at the back of his neck as Castiel looks at him most likely to say goodbye. 

“Um, here’s my number.” Dean says handing him the scrap of paper with his phone number scrawled on it. “You know if want to talk or find yourself in town again.” 

“Thank you, Dean.” Castiel takes the paper like a butterfly’s wing. 

The awkward man in a trench coat opens his mouth as if to say something else but must change his mind because he simply nods and climbs into his pick up truck. 

A strange feeling fills Dean as he watches Castiel drive away. It is somewhere between sadness and almost mournful. He isn’t sure why, but with an off melancholy feeling he watches the blue pick up truck until it disappears around the corner.


	4. To be Saved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next time Dean sees Castiel some things come to light, well they’re pretty dark thinks actually.

Dean doesn’t see the man who’s eyes haunts his nightmares and the corners of his vision for a few weeks. He doesn’t forget Castiel -he can’t- but he pushes the odd emotions when he thinks about him away. He goes about his life. 

Sam goes back to school, albeit reluctantly, practically digging his finger nails into the doorframe as Dean drags him to the car. Personally, the first day is hard without his brother. Then as the days went by he starts to enjoy his space. 

He gets a job at the same auto shop his dad works out, it sucks, John Winchester is constantly hovering and critiquing. What sucks more is he can only work part time. Dr. Mills hadn’t been excited when Dean had told her about the job. Therefore she had only cleared him for part time work and to avoid overworking his shoulder. 

Dean is just about to shut down the shop when he sees Castiel again. He worked his four hours for the day and is now shutting off the lights and just about to lock the door when a trench coat whirlwinds into the shop. His eyes are a bit crazed and his hair is even more tousled then the last time he saw them. 

“I know you’re almost closed but-“ Castiel’s wild eyes settle and seem to recognize him. “Dean, how are you?” 

“Better then you apparently.” Dean smiles. 

“Yes,” Castiel chuckles lightly, “I was just about to leave town when my car started making odd noises and shaking.” 

“Sounds like it did everything but start on fire.” Dean laughs and turns the lights back on to relight the work space. “Pull her in and I’ll take a look.” 

“Oh Dean, it can wait until tomorrow, really. I’m in no rush to go anywhere. You should go home.” 

Dean brushes off Castiel and opens up one of the garage doors to the floor. He slides his jacket off and hangs it back up. 

Castiel stands unmoving for a few moments while Dean’s back is turned. Finally he gives in and goes back out into the cold. He returns a minute later with his rattling car slowly driving into the shop. 

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound good.” Dean says as Castiel steps down from his vehicle. 

“I have figured that out myself.” Castiel huffs while he walks towards Dean. 

“I thought you left town weeks ago, what happened?” Dean asks as he pops the hood of the pick up truck. 

“I... couldn’t bring myself to leave.” Castiel sighs as if tired, he probably is if the deep bags under his eyes are saying anything. 

“Cas, you don’t have to tell me but...” Dean looks up into Castiel’s amazing blue eyes -amazing? Where did that come? “Is there a reason you don’t want to go home?” 

Castiel doesn’t answer. Dean turns back to the engine to give the other man some privacy to compose himself and his thoughts. 

“How are you, Dean?” Castiel asks instead. 

“Peachy.” Dean grunts as he checks the tightness of the bolts. 

“You’re not.” Simple stated like that, the fact takes his breath away. 

He lets his head rest on the cool and sharp edge of the propped up hood. Green eyes squeeze shut and not sharp enough teeth sink into his bottom lip. 

“I should be.” Dean shakily says to the faulty engine. “Everyone thinks I should be better. Hell, I’m seeing a physical therapist three times a week for who knows why? ‘Cause there’s no fixing my shoulder. I see a therapist twice a week for, once again, who knows why? Cause there’s no fixing my head either.” 

Dean lets out a broken laugh. The sound rattles from somewhere deep. He spins to look at his savior, expecting to find pity or anger. All he finds is a deep understanding. 

“And Sam wants me to fix everything. He’s waiting for me to fix myself, fix my dad’s drinking, fix my mom’s sudden need to go visit her second cousin in Arkansas when she’s got a life here. 

“And I’m blabbering to you, who I don’t even know. You save my life and I’m just complaining about it instead of fixing your car. I’m just... terrified. Terrified that I’m going to wake up and I’m still there. When I’m not... I’m just tired and sore.”

“Dean?” Dean looks up to find Castiel only two steps away from him. “You deserve to be saved.” 

Dean shakes his head and wipes at his eyes he hadn’t noticed are watering. He’s not worth the life of a little girl, or a innocent man who knows the Bible by heart, or any of them. He’s not worth it. 

“What are you doing here, Cas?” 

“I defied orders.” Castiel starts leaning against his broken car, he stares off into the empty auto shop. “The mission to save you and your fellow prisoners, we were called to retreat. They were firing at us while we were in the air. My superior told me to order my squad to retreat and...I thought we could make it. 

“Those explosions you heard? Those were my men and women falling from the sky.” Castiel’s voice shakes and he squeezes his eyes shut before continuing. “I single handily killed every man, woman, and child besides you in that building and on my squadron, and I’m here in this little town waiting to regret my actions. I’m waiting so I can go home and face my parents. But I look at you and I can’t regret saving you.”

“I’m one man.” Dean says in a barely a whisper. “One man out of at least thirty.” 

“I know. I know it’s horrible. I’ve been dishonorably discharged, I’ve practically ruined my entire life and I can’t regret it. It doesn’t feel like the end of my life, because I look at you and I see a good man. I see you with your little brother who looks at you like you hung the moon and the stars. I see a man who feels every loss a thousands times deeper then I or most people ever could feel. Your soul is so bright Dean Winchester and I’ll never regret saving it.” 

Dean’s got thick tracks down his face that his tears are running through. He’s sniffing snot back up his nose, and he knows he looks like a mess. Not even a hot mess, just a snotty, sniffling mess. Castiel is looking at him like he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and it aches. 

“Do you-“ Dean sniffles and wipes at his eyes. “Do you want me to fix your car?” 

“Not tonight.” Castiel smiles a tired smile. Dean finds himself longing for the day he sees the man’s true happy smile. 

“Do you want to get a drink?” Dean offers instead, his shoulder is thanking him for not putting any more strain on it today. 

“I would like that very much.” Castiel nods. 

“Great, let me call Sammy and lock up then we can go.” Dean propels himself off of the the pick up truck. 

“Would you like me to remove my vehicle?” Castiel asks. 

“Nah, just leave it. We’re closed tomorrow so I can come in and work on it on the afternoon.” Dean explains while he shuts the garage door and behind flicking off the multiple light switches. 

“You don’t have to do that.” Castiel is blushing now but he has stepped away from his car and is following Dean around as he makes the final checks. 

“No, but I want to.” Dean shrugs and steps towards the other side of the shop to call his brother. 

“Dean? Where are you? Is everything okay? Wh-“ Sam is rambling on the other side and guilt fills him at the realization he should have been home a half hour ago. 

“I’m fine, Sammy.” Dean cuts off. “Castiel had some car trouble so I was taking a look at it.”

“Don’t over do it, Dean. You heard what Dr. Mills said.” Dean can practically see Sam’s puppy dog eyes from there. 

“I know, mother. I’m not fixing it tonight. We’re going out for some drinks then I’ll be home, okay?” 

“Okay,” Sam sighs. “Be careful, don’t drink while you’re driving, text me when you’re leaving the bar-“

“Sammy? I’m twenty two, not two. Okay? I’ll be fine.” Dean says this as if this is not the first time going somewhere besides work or the grocery store at odd and deserted hours. 

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.” Dean says warmly before pocketing his phone. 

“Ready?” Dean walks over to the door. Castiel is there holding it open for him. 

“Yes I believe so.” Castiel’s breath puffs into the night air as he waits for Dean to lock the shop door behind them. 

“I didn’t say it before, but your car is beautiful.” Castiel compliments as he climbs into the passenger seat. 

“Thanks, she’s my baby.” Dean pats the dashboard fondly. 

Dean slides in a Lead Zeppelin tape and shifts Baby into reverse. Then they rumble out into the cold winter night leaving a darkened auto shop in their wake and a broken down pick up truck in their wake.


	5. Something Odd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas get drinks and for the first time in a long time Dean feels simply good.

The bar is busy. It’s to be expected really, it’s a Saturday night. It’s packed. Dean hasn’t seen so many people in one place since he stepped off the plane at the airport. He had immediately gone into a panic attack and had hid in the bathroom for an hour until he felt like he could breath again. 

Now he doesn’t want to be so weak again. He leaves the car and walks into the bar without a second thought. He can feel Castiel’s presences by his side more the he can’t hear it. It feels good especially when someone brushes past him and it’s Castiel’s hand that finds his arm to steady him. 

They head towards the back of the bar where a door sits with a neon exit sign above it. They slide into opposite sides of the booth, Dean facing the entrance of the bar. 

The waitress comes the second they sit down. They order a beer each and Dean tacks on a burger and fries meal when he realizes he hasn’t eaten since his sandwich at lunch. 

“How do you feel being back and all?” Dean asks, his hands fiddling with the napkin wrapped silverware. 

“It’s...strange.” Castiel explains. “It’s as if I’m standing still while the rest of the world is going at light speed.”

“Ye-“ Dean clears his throat of the weight of the statement. “Yeah.” 

The waitress sets down their beers before leaving in a whirlwind once again. Dean is grateful for something else for his hands to fiddle with. 

“Do you have any plans for the future?” Castiel asks after a long sip from his beer. 

“Sammy has me looking at colleges.” Dean shrugs and ducks his head. 

“Is that something you want?” His head snaps up at the question. 

“I need to get somewhere.” Dean says slowly. “Get away from here, I think.” 

“What would you go to school for?” 

“I don’t know.” Dean scratches at the back of his neck with his good arm. “I wanted to be a mechanic or a firefighter, but now...” 

“I’m sorry.” Castiel says with six different emotions Dean can’t -won’t- name pouring from his eyes. 

“Not your fault.” Dean says on reflex. 

“It sort of is.” Castiel corrects sheepishly. 

“That’s not the way I see it.” Dean compromises. His friend seems to accept that for now. “What about you? Where do you go from here?” 

“No where for now. I think I’ll stay here.” Castiel says, looking out into the crowded bar. “It’s as good of place as any and my parents are sure in no hurry to see me. I will have to go to Washington eventually.” 

“What for?” Dean’s brow furrows. 

“My trial.” Castiel supplies grimly. 

“I thought you were discharged.” 

“I will be, but I can’t be dishonorably removed from the Air Force until there is a judge and jury.”

“Shit.” Dean blows the word harshly through his teeth. 

“Yes, it is shit.” Castiel shrugs lightly and continues before Dean can speak. “Don’t apologize, Dean. I meant what I said and I will say it as many times as you need me to. I do not regret my actions.” 

“Okay.” Dean says softly. 

His food is set down and he eats instead of talking for a while. Dean mules over the strange man who thinks Dean is worth...something. He knows Sam would agree with Castiel but he’s his little brother that’s different. 

With the finally bites of his burger Dean swallows the idea of his new friend and decides he needs to learn something about this Castiel. 

“So, what music do you listen to?” Dean asks after a swig of beer. He pushes his plate heaping with fries to the center of the table to share. 

“Um.. all kinds.” Castiel shrugs and that isn’t going to fly so Dean pushes. 

“Like...”

“I enjoy Eminem.” Castiel says while nibbling on a French fry. 

Dean throws his head back laughing. He laughs like he used to and it feels so good. It’s not like his laugh from earlier tonight, no this one rumbles from his gut and rolls off his shoulders. 

“What’s so funny.” Castiel is giving him a confused and borderline offended look but his eyes are soft and bright. 

“I’m sorry, nothing it’s just...” Dean takes a few deep breaths to control his laughter. “You look more like a classical or jazz music kind of guy, not rapping.”

“I like the beat, and they’re catchy.” Castiel defends but he’s laughing softly too. “I assume you listen to nothing but old rock tunes.” 

“Don’t dis the classics, man.” Dean can’t keep a straight face. “But that’s not all I like.”

“Oh, does Dean Winchester have a guilty pleasure?” Castiel teases around the mouth of his beer bottle. 

“Psh, everyone has a guilty pleasure.”

“And yours is...” Castiel prompts and Dean decides to humor him. 

“Taylor Swift.” Dean says for the first time out loud. 

“She’s got some good songs.” Castiel agrees with crows feet around his eyes. 

“How about tv shows? Movies? What’s your favorite?” Dean settles back into the booth ad orders himself and Castiel another bee from the passing waitress. 

“I like documentaries.” Castiel snatches some more fires from Dean’s plate. “There’s one about bees I particularly enjoyed.”

“Bees?” 

“Yes bees, I like bees. They are fascinating.” Castiel says fondly. 

“Okay then.” What a strange dude, and Dean’s sitting here soaking him up like oxygen. 

“What about you, Dean? What do you watch?” Dean hadn’t noticed how tense Castiel’s shoulders were until he shook it off with a light smile. 

“The basics. Star Wars, Die Hard, Hatchet Man, the works.” Dean shrugs. “Dr. Sexy, Harry Potter, The Princess Bride.” 

Those last few titles must be the third beer thrumming in his veins and loosening his tongue. That paired with the warm atmosphere of their little corner of the bar makes him want to be honest. 

“I have not heard of any of those.” 

“What?” Dean searches those blue eyes for a hint of mirth but he finds only seriousness. 

Castiel only shrugs sheepishly and orders chicken wings from the waitress who brings Castiel another beer and Dean a glass of whiskey. 

“We’re fixing that.” Dean vows. “Not tonight, the one of these nights we’re getting you cultured.” 

“I’d like that.” Castiel says warmly in way that makes Dean think his comment has layers. Layers he’s too buzzed to pick through. 

“Yeah?” Castiel has a soft smile on his face. Dean decides it’s his favorite smile yet. “Yeah.” 

They stay until Dean begins to fall asleep, warm and content in the booth. His legs are tangled up with Cas’ underneath. Two large baskets of wings filled with nothing but bones rest between them on the table. The multiple beer bottles have been cleared away as leisurely as they appeared along with Dean’s whiskey glass. 

When they do leave the bar has started to thin out. Dean still feels good when the cold air hits his warm cheeks. He sends a quick text to Sam that he’s fairly sure says what he thinks it says, maybe with a few typos. 

They’re both too drunk to drive, though Cas is doing a much better job at hiding it. They walk down the chilly streets of Lawrence Kansas. Their sides lean heavily against each other as they slightly stumble through the winter mush. 

It’s beginning to snow. Large fluffy flakes cascade from the sky. Many find a temporary home in Cas’ hair and Dean drunkenly thinks how beautiful he looks. 

They make it to Dean’s house. Giggling all the way to the suburbs. Now they are standing on Dean’s front step as Dean struggles to put the key in the lock. He gets it after some struggle and turns to share his victory. 

Castiel is close. Closer then Dean had thought when he turned. He can feel the warmth of Cas’ breath condensing on his face. Their lips are about an inch from each other. Cas’ lips look chapped and soft. 

Dean takes a step back into the door the same moment Cas ducks his head. The warmth of his cheeks he isn’t sure if it’s the alcohol or the cold or something else entirely. 

“‘Night Cas.” Dean says softly before ducking inside the house. 

“Goodnight, Dean.” The only reason Dean hears the sweetly spoken goodnight is because he pressed his forehead against the closed door. 

He turns away from the door a sees his dad asleep -passed out- on the couch. Sighing he kicks off his boots and stumbles up the stairs. He finds himself in Sam’s room. 

He’s surprised to see his kid brother at his desk studying until he looks at the clock and sees it’s only 11:34 on a weekend. He throws himself onto Sam’s bed, neither of them have slept through the night by themselves anyway. 

“You drunk?” Sam asks looking up from his texts. 

“Not enough.” Dean sighs and snuggles his cheek into the pillow. 

He isn’t sure how much time passes, but at some point Sam turns off his lamp and climbs into bed. Dean idly wonders if the alcohol will keep the nightmares at bay.

“You better not puke on me.” Sam mumbles. 

Instead of answering Dean turns himself so his forehead is pressed against Sam’s shoulder. He lets sleep take him away with blue eyes glowing at the corner of his mind.


	6. Regaining a New Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is settling back into himself, maybe’s he’s different and the people in his life are different but maybe that’s okay

Weeks turn to months. Dean turns twenty three. Cas gives him a a cook book of different pies along with a six pack of beer. Dean spends lots of time with Cas. They don’t talk about their almost kiss but they talk about everything else. 

Dean applies to colleges. Most are community but his brother, Cas, and both his therapists encourage him to apply to Kansas State University and even Chicago University. 

He doesn’t want to get his hopes up but KSU is only a an hour drive. It’s just far enough his parents wouldn’t want to visit but Sam can make the trip no problem. He still isn’t sure what he wants to do once he gets there, but he’s got to get through his generals first. 

Things are looking up. He still isn’t sleeping through the night, but maybe that will never go away. He has stopped covering his head when something crashes in the shop, he still flinches but maybe that will never go away either. His shoulder has it’s bad days just like he does, for the most part it holds a simple dull ache. 

Cas hangs around. He got a job at the local Gas N Sip gas station and has a small apartment. His court date has been set for June. He’s under strict order not to leave the state. Dean has made a promise to himself that’ll he’ll be there. 

Now he is sitting with Sam in the auto shop closed. They are both working on Sam’s sixteenth birthday present, a 1969 Chevy Camaro. It was found in Bobby’s salvage yard in Sioux Falls by the boys and towed to Lawerence by Bobby’s tow truck. The owner is allowing them to store and work on it as long as Dean plugs in a couple extra hours. 

So far they’ve finished rebuilding the engine and today they are working on reupholstering the interior with a brown leather to replace the tattered cloth. Well, Sam is reupholstering while Dean rubs out his burning shoulder. 

“So what’s with you and Castiel?” Sam asks from inside the car. 

“What’s with what and who?” Dean asks, startled from his gazing into the ceiling. 

“You and Castiel!” Sam increases his volume. 

“What about us?” Dean asks. 

“You’re so clueless.” Sam snickers. 

“Am not.” Dean chucks a screw at his brother’s head. 

“Watch it.” 

“Oh we have to do the paint job yet anyway.” Dean leans back against the support beam from his perch on their cooler. 

“Seriously, what’s up with you two?” Sam crawls out of the car and slaps Dean’s leg to get him to hand him a soda from the cooler. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dean settles back down on the cooler and holds a cold beer to his shoulder. It’s hot in the shop they opened the garage doors but the spring heat wave doesn’t do much good. Sam has stripped out of his t-shirt and Dean would like to do the same but he doesn’t think he’s ready for the pitying glances or the questions about his scarred shoulder. 

“Come on, dude.” Sam presses, his eyes on a low level puppy dog look. 

“First of all, no chick flicks. Second of all, there’s nothing to tell.” Dean shrugs and walks over to the car to check on how the interior job is coming along. 

“Dean,” Sam whines. “He’s a great guy.”

“I know that, that’s why we’re friends.” Dean says. “Nice job on the leather, remember to keep it tight.” 

“Friends.” Sam snorts. 

“Yes, Sammy, do you need a dictionary?” Dean’s starting to get frustrated. 

“I’m just saying he looks at you differently, you look at him the same way.” Dean turns to see his cheeky little brother he’s beginning to look like a man. He had learned to shave while Dean was gone. 

“You can date him if you like him so much.” Dean gripes as he attaches a little more leather. 

“Dean!” Sam whines poking at his boot hanging out of the car. 

“Sam!” Dean raises his voice an octave as he crawls out of the car, shoulder on fire again. 

“You’re such a jerk.” Sam mutters as he takes Dean’s place in the car.

“Bitch.” Dean grumbles as he decides to climb up on to the hood instead. 

Silence passes. The brothers sit comfortably in it like a warm bath. Dean gets up and helps for a while until Sam makes him sit again when his shoulder locks up. So he s it a and looks at paint samples while Sam finishes the upholstery. 

“Dean?” Sam begins tentatively. 

“Sam I swear to-“

“I know, I know.” Sam quickly continues. “But you know, I’d be fine with it.” 

Dean rolls his eyes. He came out when he was sixteen and had his first boyfriend Aaron. His dad didn’t really ever talk about it, the Winchester way, Mom had smiled and told him she’d love him no matter what like a parent is supposed to. 

“I know that Sam.” 

“I mean he clearly likes you.” Sam goes on. “He literally has moved to town because of you. God knows he’ll follow where ever you go for college.” 

“Sam, drop it okay?” Dean glares at his brother. “I’m not...ready.” 

That shuts Sam up. His brother gets that kicked puppy dog look. Dean feels a bit bad, but he’s not getting into this now. So he flips through paint samples. 

“How about cherry red?” Dean gives as a peace offering. 

“Dude, red cars are statistically more likely to get pulled over.” Sam rolls his eyes, peace offering excepted. 

“Not the way you drive, grandma.” 

“It’s called the speed limit, you should try it sometime.” Dean smiles at his brother. 

“I agree with your brother.” Cas appears, startling Dean and causing him to jump and hit his head on the windshield. 

“You need a bell.” Dean says not unkindly as he slides off the hood of the Chevy to help Cas with the large paper bag he was juggling. “What’s this?”

“Lunch.” Cas says, accepting a beer from Sam. 

“Really?” Sam, the always hungry teenager, takes the bag from Dean. 

“Thanks, man. You didn’t have to do that.” Dean says a little bashfully. 

“It was my pleasure. There is a chicken sandwich for Sam and a bacon cheddar burger with extra onions for you.” Cas lists off as Sam is chomping down on his lunch. 

“Your poor arteries.” Sam says mournfully as he eyes Dean’s burger. 

“Did you already eat?” Dean asks around a mouth full of burger. 

“No my lunch is in here.” Cas says as he takes the bag back and pulls out a wrapped burger for himself. 

“Don’t tell me that’s what I think it is.” Dean cries. 

“If you mean a delicious burger then yes.” Cas snarks and takes a large bite. 

“Why? What kind is it?” Sam asks. 

“It’s an abomination is what it is.” Dean grumbles. 

“Your brother is being dramatic.” 

“Am not.” Dean defends. “Peanut butter does not belong on meat, Cas! That’s just a fact.” 

“There’s peanut butter in that?” Sam looks horrified. 

“Yes, Sam, and it is delicious.” Cas takes another large bite. 

Dean gags and Cas glares at him playfully. The dark haired man has a bit of peanut on his upper lip and Dean has the sudden desire to kiss it off. 

He shakes himself and focuses on finishing his burger. Sam must notice his look because he makes kissing faces behind Cas’ back. Dean glares daggers at his brother. 

“Hey, Castiel?” Sam’s got that ‘I’m being a little shit and I know it’ look on his face. “Aren’t you hot in that coat?” 

“No I’m quite comfortable, thank you.” Cas answered with an adorably confused look on his face. 

“Well if you get hot, you should take it off.” Sam says ever so innocently.

“That would be the appropriate action yes.” Cas turns to Dean who had been miming killing his brother. “What did Dr. Mills say?” 

Dean searches his mind for what Cas is talking about. “Oh, right. She said it was okay as long as I’m not casting with my bad arm.” 

“I can cast for you.” Cas offers. 

“Cas, you don’t know how to cast.” Dean tells him gently. 

“I know that.” Cas huffs. “But you’re going to teach me.” 

“What are you guys doing?” Sam asks and Dean almost feels bad for not telling his brother but the little coat comment made them even. 

“Dean is going to teach me to fish.” Cas replies excitedly. “We’re going next weekend.” 

“Really?” Sam’s eyebrows quirk up. 

“Yeah, just for the day.” Dean shrugs and avoids the shit eating grin Sam is sending him. 

“That sounds like fun.” Sam say simply. 

“Cas, how’s your car holding up?” Dean asks as if he doesn’t know. It has been a day since he has last seen Cas maybe something had gone wrong in that time. 

“Fine, thank you. You’re very good at fixing things.” 

“It really wasn’t that bad.” Dean blushes. 

“The engine needed to be rebuilt and it started on fire one day.” Cas pushes and he’s not wrong. “I Can still pay you back for it.” 

“It’s no problem, buddy, really.” Dean feels a big smile reach his face. “But if you wanted to keep bringing food around, I won’t stop you.” 

Dean doesn’t realize he had been staring stupidly at Cas until Sam clears his throat. Startling him and Cas both. 

“Well, I should be going.” Cas stands from the upturned bucket he’d been sitting on. 

“Yeah okay, yeah.” Dean can feel heat coloring his ears at his own blabbering. “Um, thanks for the food and I’ll see you later.” 

“Goodbye, Dean.” Cas says in that way that make’s Dean’s heart flutter. “And Sam.” 

“See ya, Castiel thanks for the food.” Sam waves as Cas exits the garage. 

“I’m going to kill you and make it look like an accident.” Dean glares and shoves at his brother. 

“Perfect, you can dump my body in the lake during your date.” Sam shoves him back with a wicked smile on his face. 

“It’s not a date.” Dean grumbles and ducks into the car to hide his blushing face. 

“Of course not. It’ll be just the two of you, alone, in our tiny little fishing boat on the river with no one to be seen for miles.” 

“You’re going to do that thing where you shut the hell up.” Dean growls, when Sam laughs he tackles his brother to the floor. 

He tries to ignore how Sam twists him so Dean lands on his good shoulder. He’s proud how he is clearly able to pin Sam. He’s slowly but surely gaining his muscle and healthy body weight back. 

Dean is slowly but surely gaining himself back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know what is up with this story but I’m really enjoying writing it. Thank you for all the comments and kudos!!


	7. It’s as Easy as Breathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What comes up must come down. Always. 
> 
> Warning for PTSD and underaged drinking (?)

Sam breaths in the mild spring air as he walks the three miles home from school. Dean is on his fishing date, he’s supposed to come home late tonight. God, those two need to get together already. 

Sam grabs the mail as an afterthought on his way up the driveway. There’s a lot of it but he doesn’t bothering going through it as he walks, his mind is too preoccupied. 

Seriously Dean looks at Castiel with practical heart eyes, Castiel does the exact same thing. Not to mention Dean blushes and or gets a dreamy whenever the dark haired man is even mentioned. The two also stand too close, as if opposite sides of a magnet. 

Then there were the less obvious things. Like how Dean’s eyes soften whenever Castiel is in the room; or how Castiel would bring pie and or burgers to Dean’s work. It was how Dean had movies nights with Castiel had his apartment even though there’s no parking for his Baby. Sam saw it in the way Castiel would visit Dean after a particularly difficult therapy appointment and bringing pie and ice cream. 

Sam doesn’t have a lot of experience with love. His parents are supposedly in love, but Mom is hardly home these days and Dad is hardly sober. He had a girlfriend in the eighth grade, Elizabeth, but their awkward blushing three weeks they had spent eating lunch together doesn’t count as love. 

He isn’t even sure Dean has fallen in love yet. His brother had had a near constant string of boyfriends and girlfriends throughout high school. Sam is fairly sure Dean hadn’t loved any of them. The longest relationship he had had was with Lisa in his Junior and Senior year of high school. They had broken up when Dean had decided to stay home with a flu infested Sam instead of going to senior prom. 

Sam had pleaded for Dean to go but Mom was on a supposed business trip and Dad was working a double shift at the auto shop. Dean and Lisa had a screaming match outside of the house while Sam had tried to curl himself into oblivion. Finally Dean had come inside, cheeks flushed, he hadn’t even put on his tux. He sat next to Sam on the couch and they had spent the night watching crappy action movies. 

Now Dean is full of soft looks and lingering touches. Sam may not know much but he is fairly sure his brother is falling in love. 

He smiles at this thought as he enters his house. It’s empty, just as it always is when he gets home from school, unless Dean has the day off. Sam kicks off his shoes and shrugs off his coat before walking into the kitchen. 

He thumbs through the mail after he grabs himself two granola bars. It’s mostly adds or bills. He makes a pile of important stuff and throws the rest into the recycling. Something halts his thumbing. 

Mr. Dean Winchester is typed nicely on to five different large envelopes. Sam shouldn’t open them. He knows he shouldn’t, but there’s an itch inside to just peak. 

Instead he drops the envelopes and sprints up to his room with half of a granola bar in his mouth. He buries himself in homework as long as he can. That works for two hours. Then he finds himself sitting on the porch steps clutching the envelopes and pretending to read a book until the impala comes rumbling up the driveway. 

“Dean!” Sam sprints up to the door before his brother is even out the car. 

“Sammy? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Sam regrets his tone at the pure terror in his brother’s eyes. 

“No it’s not that. It’s not bad. At least I don’t think so. I mean not that I opened them but-“ 

“Sam, what’s going on?” Cas, who Sam hadn’t even noticed is there. 

“You got mail.” Sam thrusts the envelopes at Dean. 

Dean opens the first envelope. Sam watches his face intently. He watches Dean’s eyes scan the page. 

“Holy shit!” Dean’s eyes enlarged and his eyes brows jumped. “Holy shit!” This time there’s a smile. 

“What’s it say?” Sam stomps his foot in impatience. 

“They want me.” Dean says like he can’t believe it. 

“Who?” Sam is practically jumping out of his skin and he’s a second away from tearing the letter from Dean’s hand. 

“Um...” Dean eyes scan the page. “Topeka community.”

“That’s great, Dean.” Castiel is smiling just as brightly as Dean is. 

“And you’ve got four more to open.” Sam holds out the other envelopes. 

They stand out in the cooling night as Dean opens up each of his envelopes. All have the words congratulations Dean Winchester types on them. His brother is accepted into Kansas Sate University, North Central Community, Topeka Community, Kansas City Community, and one more that Sam still clutches in his hand. 

“Last one.” Sam smiles like he doesn’t know what’s in the last envelope. For half of a selfish second Sam hopes the words “we are sorry to inform you” or something along those lines is held within. For that selfish half of a second he wants his brother to not leave him again. He wants his brother to choose the school that’s only an hour’s drive instead of the nearly 8 hour drive from home. 

Dean opens it with his breath held. His face gives away little as he reads the letter. Sam’s selfish half second is gone. All he wants is for his brother to be happy. 

“Dear Mr. Winchester.” Dean reads with a smile on his face. “We are pleased to inform you blah blah blah. They want me.” 

Sam watches as Dean looks disbelieving at the letters Cas now holds. The letters of people who see the greatness in his brother that he does. 

“I’m so proud of you.” Sam let’s go of his reserves and hugs his brother. 

“Thanks, Sammy.” Dean breaths into his hair as if afraid to shatter the reality of the moment. 

“You have a lot of amazing choices, Dean.” Castiel says, he’s got a bright smile on his face as Dean and Sam pull away. 

“I want to go to Kansas State.” Dean says with such confidence. 

“Are you sure?” Sam presses not wanting to hold his brother back. “You could apply to more places, broaden your horizons. You could go anywhere you want.”

“Sam, I want to go to Kansas State.” Dean says heavily and Sam gets it. He can’t remember the last time Dean has wanted something for himself. 

“Then that’s that.” Castiel says with a tone of finality. 

Dean must hear the tone too because he pulls Castiel into a crushing hug. Sam watches in amusement at Castiel’s clear surprise. It only takes the dark haired man a moment to hug Dean back tightly. 

“I also want a drink and some pie, because I deserve it.” Dean throws his head back and laughs half delirious. 

Dean and Castiel head inside to wash up and use before they head to the local bar. It’s not too busy being a Sunday at 4 pm but there’s still a decent crowd that has gathered. 

Sam is surprised when Dean just barely flinches at the group of people before diving into the building, heading towards the back as if on a well worn path. Castiel and Sam follow at his heels. 

Their beers came quickly and the pie, both apple and cherry, come not to long after. Dean had charmed the waitress into getting Sam a beer. Sam has not seen that particular smile and well placed wink in a long time. 

“I’d like to make a toast to Dean.” Castiel raises his beer. “For his hard work and strength these last few months.” 

“To Dean!” Sam cries proudly, causing a few people around them to turn and glance. 

Dean’s face is tomato red. His freckles Sam sometimes forgets about stand out as he mutters a sheepish thanks into his slice of pie. Cherry is his first choice but he’ll have apple next and then at least one more of each. 

They talk and laugh and Sam forgets about the last few months. He forgets about the nightmare and he pretends he’s just sitting in a booth in a bar with his brother and friend. He pretends one of them isn’t going to two different therapists, one of them doesn’t have a court case in two months, and one of them didn’t have a break down in the cafeteria and have to spend the rest of the day in the councilor’s office trying to remember how to breath. 

He should have seen it coming. Nothing good lasts. The Winchester’s have the worst luck in history. The universe apparently thinks they don’t deserve a break. 

Sam isn’t one hundred percent sure what happens. A large flame comes from the bar, a pop of champagne comes, followed by a shrill laugh. 

Then Sam is beginning pulled under the table. He hits his head on the way down, and soon Castiel is being yanked down as well. Dean is gripping Sam’s arm with a painfully shaking grip. His bright eyes are almost shaking themselves as they flash around the room. 

“De?” Sam hesitantly tries to get Dean’s wild eyes to land on him. 

“Keep your head down, Sam.” Dean whispers distractedly. 

“Dean, we’re okay.” Castiel tries his voice too is a little shaky. 

They stay under the table for about five minutes until Dean seems to return. He slowly stops shaking and he eventually looks around as if seeing everything for the first time. He looks at Sam in horror. Sam reaches up to his forehead and pulls his fingers away to find blood.. 

“I’m gonna...yeah.” And with that Dean scrambles out from underneath the table and bursts through the exit. 

Sam crawls out from under the table and Castiel follows. Part of him wants to chase Dean a make him feel better -safer-. The other part of him, the little kid part of him he’s been trying to burry for Dean’s sake, wants to crawl back under the table and disappear. He can’t leave Dean. He’s done it once in that airport as he watched the plane fly away with his brother, he won’t do it again. 

“Sam,” Castiel snaps Sam from his thoughts, he had half forgotten the other man was here. “I don’t want to over step but, perhaps I should go talk to Dean.”

That little kid part of him is relieved. The other part wants to refuse, but logically Castiel knows what’s going on inside his brother’s head better then Sam will. It hurts. It cuts deeper then Sam wants to admit, but it’s true. 

“Yeah, okay. Ten minutes, and I’ll see you back at the car.” Sam says, forcing himself to breath. 

“Ten minutes.” Castiel nods, he doesn’t try for a reassuring smile but he pats Sam’s shoulder before he leaves out the back door Dean had used to escape. 

Then he’s alone. He’s alone in a crowded bar at an empty booth with pie and drinks he’s not even legally allowed to have.


	8. Maybe not Today Nor the Day After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is there for Dean, maybe he will be for a long time

Dean finds himself retching behind the bar. His stomach seems to be doing some spring cleaning as it gets rid of every food and beverage today from scrambled eggs and coffee to beer and pie. It’s humiliating, leaning against the dirty brick, practically stepping in his own vomit with tears streaming down his face. 

“Dean?” He had heard Cas approach, Cas had probably made sure Dean heard him. 

Oh God, what had he been thinking. He’s so stupid. If he closes his eyes tight enough he can pretend he’s not here. He doesn’t try to go anywhere in particular simply not here. 

“God, I’m so stupid.” Dean shifts his head back and allows it to fall forward on to the brick again. It doesn’t hurt enough.

“Dean-“

“No, I am!” Dean hisses with venom, turning to face Cas. “I actually thought I could go to college. I can’t even go to a bar. What a fuckin’ joke! I let everyone talk me into going just so I could make a fool out of myself when I got there. I’ll have to have a roommate and I don’t sleep through the night like some newborn. I’ll have to sit in a class full of strangers with only two exits. I... I can’t leave Sam with my parents who are barely there mentally or otherwise!” 

Dean puts his head down and rubs at his eyes with the heels of his palms. He feels his shoulders begin to shake as blubbering sobs begin to rip themselves from his chest. He can feel Cas slowly creeping closer until he is a step away from Dean. 

“And I hurt him. I hurt Sammy and I scared him.” Dean gasps out between sobs. 

“Can I touch you Dean?” Cas asks and Dean doesn’t bother making a joke to break the tension he just steps forward and let’s Cas hug him. 

“I can’t. I can’t.” Dean sobs into Cas’ dress shirt he always seems to be wearing underneath the suit jacket that Dean had gotten him to leave at his apartment that morning and the trench coat that is inside. He leaves snot and tears on the nice shirt and it makes him cry harder. 

“You can.” Cas says simply. “And you don’t have to do it by yourself. Me and Sam and Bobby, Ellen, Jo, all of us are one phone call away. Me and Sam are just over an hour’s drive. As for the roommate you can request a room without one or maybe someone is a really heavy sleeper.” Dean snorts wetly at that. 

“I don’t even know what I’m going to do.” Dean’s sobs are tapering off. 

“Whatever you want to. There’s no rush. You’ll figure it out, Dean.” Dean pulls away to look into the blue eyes. “Have a little faith.” 

“I haven’t believed in there is anything watching over us in a very long time.” Dean confesses. 

“Then believe in people, believe in yourself.” 

“Okay.” Dean says because he’s too tired to argue anymore. 

Cas steps back and Dean misses his warmth immediately. Dean opens his mouth to say something...maybe thank you, maybe I’m glade you’re here, or I may be falling in love with you. That last one scares him so he’s glad when Sam comes around the corner with their jackets. 

“Come here, Sammy.” Dean opens his arms and Sam throws himself into them. “I’m so sorry.” Dean squeezes his brother tight before pushing him to arms length and inspecting the cut on his brother’s head. It’s a small superficial thing, but it makes Dean want to empty his stomach again. 

Sam drives them back in silence with Dean in the passenger seat. They drop Cas off who thanks Dean for the fun fishing trip and promises to bring him lunch tomorrow. Then Sam drives the two of them home in relative silence. 

It’s late when Sam cuts the engine in the driveway. The house is dark, Mom and Dad must be asleep or not home, not that it matters. 

Dean jumps in the shower and brushes the vomit taste from his mouth with too minty tooth paste that make’s his mouth feel like a tundra. Sam takes the bathroom afterwards and Dean goes to his own room. 

“Dean?” Sam peaks his head in, his hair is damp and in his eyes more then usual. 

“You need a haircut, dude.” Dean teases. He feels better. The letter sitting on his desk causes him a little anxiety but that’s not today’s problem. He doesn’t want to scare Sam anymore then he already has. 

“I like it.” Sam curls himself at the foot of Dean’s bed. 

“Only because it hides your pimply forehead.” Dean gets a kick to the leg for that. 

“How was fishing?” Sam asks, trying for nonchalance as he picks at a loose thread on Dean’s quilt. “You didn’t bring any home.” 

“Cas wanted to release them.” Dean shrugs, leaning back against the headboard. He knows Sam is just trying to cool down from earlier’s excitement so he indulges. “And I didn’t want smelly fish in my Baby.”

Flashes of Cas in his white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows fill his mind, sweat dripping down the back of his neck, eyes bluer then sky above, and a smile warmer then the mild spring air. He remembers the feeling of Cas’ body when Dean had wrapped his arms around him to help him pull in a particularly big fish. He remembers Cas leaning in closely to watch Dean demonstrate how to bait the hook and his hot breath on his neck. 

“Anything else?” Sam asks with a poorly concealed smirk as if he could read Dean’s thoughts, honestly he probably could. 

“Um, the boat is going to need more gas next time it gets taken out.” Dean settles for. 

“Really?” They both know what Sam is talking about but he switches topics anyway. “You’re supposed to fill it up so we don’t get stuck in the middle of the river.” 

“Then you better remember to fill it up.” Dean smiles and nudge’s Sam’s foot. 

Sam tries to contain his yawn so it stretches his face in weird ways. Dean just smiles and yawns openly when he catches it. 

“Time for bed, Sammy.” Dean says and pulls the covers up to burrow beneath them. 

Neither mentions they are going to have to start sleeping in different beds one night. They are going to have to fall asleep to something besides the other’s breathing. They are going to wake up to nightmares without anyone there to tell them it’s okay. 

For now Sam crawls into bed next to his brother. For now Dean falls asleep to his brother’s breathing next to him. For now Dean is here and he’ll be here tomorrow too, after that he’s not sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments and the kudos they make this story that much more fun to write


	9. Anxiety Noodles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean’s stomach won’t stop turning. Sam is helping, whatever Cas has to tell him isn’t

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What even is this chapter title

Dean doesn’t sleep that night. At least not enough to be beneficial. He lays in bed for awhile, willing himself to fall asleep again to his snoring brother next to him. But there’s a wind storm and the house creaks. It sounds like a dead body being dragged down the hall, leaving a trail of blood for the prisoners to smell until it stains the dirty concrete. 

Instead he gets up, pulls on socks and a sweatshirt, and heads downstairs. He avoids creaking floorboards but flinches at how loud his breathing is. Eventually he makes it to the kitchen. 

He pulls out a pot silently with the intent of making Sam and Cas lunch. Then he’d make Sam breakfast. It’ll be his last act before he forgives himself for scaring his brother. No amount of pancakes will make him forgive himself for hurting his brother. 

He’s just putting noddles in the boiling pot when he hears someone enter. They foot steps are too loud to be Sam, but not hesitant enough to be his mom. That only leaves one person in the house. 

“Dean?” His name doesn’t slip clumsily from his father’s lips so that’s a good sign. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” Dean grunts as if Dad didn’t hear him puking and splashing water on his face in the bathroom. 

His dad only hums and grabs a coffee mug. Dean watches from the corner of his vision as his father fills the mug with Jamison. That’s been one thing he had promised himself when he got back. He will not allow alcohol to comfort him. Not like his father does. So Dean cooks. He provides. 

“Whatcha makin’?” Dad asks after awhile. 

“Mac ‘n cheese.” Dean replies and grabs the block of cheese out of the fridge Cas had gotten them on sale. 

He uses the cheese grater to shred the cheese and marvels at how much better it tastes fresh from the block. It’s tangier, not as rubbery.

“Who’s Cas?” Dad asks and Dean tries not to jump. He fails but Dad doesn’t say anything. 

“Just a friend.” Dean winces as his shoulder pulls while carrying the pot of noodles to the strainer laying flat across the sink. 

“Yeah? He’s been coming around the shop a lot. Don’t remember seein’ him before.” 

“He’s a new friend.” Dean’s glad he’s cooking when his father decides to bring this up, it gives his hands something to do that doesn’t look awkward. 

“Were you with him tonight?” 

“Yes.” Dean isn’t sure where this five degree is coming from but he’s not sure he likes it. 

Dad seems to sense his hackles rising because he stops talking for a while. Dean places the cheese in the noodles along with parsley from Missouri’s garden she had given him in return for taking the day off of work to have lunch with Lee and Benny. He’s stirring with his good arm when his Dad begins to speak again. 

“Where were you guys?” Dad days after taking a particularly long sip from his mug. 

“Just out. We got some pie and drinks.” Dean shrugs and continues stirring. 

“Sam have any?” Dean knows better then to lie. 

“Just half of one, sir.” 

“I see.” Silence stretches again. Finally he gets the cheese completely melted against the noodles. He then sets to making bacon for BLTs. “It’s a school night and you got work tomorrow, any special reason for going out?”

“Just celebrating.” Dean shrugs and quickly adds before his dad can think he’s hiding anything from him. “I got accepted into a couple of colleges.” 

“Yeah? You know which one you want?” He says it with layers but none of them seem angry just tired. 

“I’m thinking KSU.” Dean watches his father’s face, it doesn’t give away anything. He is a great poker player. 

“Good school.” Dean just hums im acknowledgment and continues layering bacon on to tin foil. “You know where Sam wants to go?”

“He doesn’t know yet.” Dean answers truthfully. 

“He’s going somewhere far away.” Dad says into his mug. Dean wonders how much whiskey is left in there. 

“Dad, where’s Mom?” Dean asks because it’s relevant. 

“I don’t know.” Dad tips his mug back and his whiskey is gone. He doesn’t refill it. “That Mac ‘n cheese done?” 

Dean scoops them each a bowl while he waits for the bacon to cook. They sit quietly. There’s a lot to be said. There’s a lot to be heard. They won’t talk about it. Not today and maybe not ever. They’re Winchesters, silence is in their blood. 

Eventually Dad goes back to bed. Dean stays up and slices tomatoes. He doesn’t assemble the sandwiches because they’ll get soggy by the time they’re eaten. Instead be makes pancake batter and a strawberry compote. 

He wishes he could do this for a living. It makes people smile, brings them together. The environment is intense and exciting.

He can’t. His shoulder is on fire as he whisks his dry ingredients. He savors the burn, but he can’t do this for hours everyday. 

Sam stumbles into the kitchen around seven. He looks at Dean with a sad knowing look. Dean doesn’t want to talk about it so he piles three pancakes on to a plate and gives it to his brother. 

“Hey, Dean?” Sam starts after his first pancake. “I was thinking.”

“Oh no.” Dean teases from where he is at the counter making BLTs. 

“Shove it jerk.” Sam smiles before continuing. “What if we split our road trip?” 

“What?” Dean stops moving his hands and looks up. 

“Not cancel it or anything.” Sam quickly amends. “It’s just, the Camaro is almost done and I’d like to give it-“

“Her, Sammy.” Dean corrects. “Or he. You gotta give your car some respect.”

“A test run.” Sam ignores Dean. “And Cas’ court case is on the east coast so we could head out there, see the sights, watch his case, then we could all drive back.” 

“So then next summer, after your senior year, we do the west coast?” Dean asks, scooping Mac n cheese into a microwaveable container for Cas and a thermos for Sam. 

“Exactly.” Sam’s shoulders relax. “I just figured since you were planning on going any ways... this way you don’t have to get on a plane.”

Dean holds back a shudder at the thought of getting on a plane. He thinks the idea over, he likes it. 

“Okay.” Dean agrees setting Sam’s lunch aside. 

“Really? Great!” Sam’s eyes shine with excitement. “This way, it’ll be like celebrating your last summer before college too!” 

“Yeah, whatever.” Dean places Cas’ lunch aside. “I’m bringing Cas lunch today so I’ll tell him the good news.”

“Or...” Sam’s got that shit spark in his eye. “We could surprise him.”

“Sammy-“

“It’s not like we would be lying to him, at least not for very long. His case is in less the a month and school ends in two weeks. That gives us plenty of time. And he’ll have to get there early so it’s not like we’d be leaving him here too long, if at all.”

Dean doesn’t say anything. Sam washes his plate and begins to pack Dean a lunch. He hasn’t eaten anything since pie at the bar last night besides that bowl of man n cheese he ate with his dad. 

His stomach turns at the look of his name on a bag of food. He knows he’ll be expected to eat it. Maybe having lunch with Cas will make it easier, it normally does. 

“Okay, Sammy.” Dean says. “Surprise road trip, sounds like fun.”

“Yeah?” Sam’s got that smile on his face like Dean told him Christmas came twice. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean ruffles his brother’s hair. “Wheels up in ten.” 

“‘Kay.” Sam says before turning to leave the kitchen. 

“Hey, Sam?” Sam’s eyes turn back to Dean. “Happy Birthday.”

His brother’s face breaks into confusion, then disbelief, before finally a bright smile. 

“Thanks, Dean.” A quick hug and his too tall brother disappears up the stairs. 

Lunch comes quickly. Soon enough Dean finds himself ducking into the Gas N Sip with two paper bags. He had sent Cas a text saying he would be supplying lunch. 

Cas is behind the counter checking an elderly man out. He’s all polite smiles and “oh, my day is fine how is your’s, sir?” Dean wanders the lanes as not to hover impatiently. He’s not jealous of the old man who get’s Cas’ attention. 

The man leaves. Dean takes his spot at the counter with a lopsided grin and a bag of jerky. He pays for the jerky and Cas hollers at his boss Eleanor that he’s taking his lunch break. 

“Are you taking a long lunch?” Cas asks as they sit behind the gas station at a worn picnic table that groans and squeaks under the weight of two men. 

“I’ve actually got the afternoon off.” Dean says around a mouth full of BLT. He had been right It’s easier to eat now with Cas. “It’s Sammy’s birthday so I’d thought I’d make a cake for when he gets home.” 

“That’s sounds nice.” Cas smiles but there’s a look in his eyes that’s far away. Dean knows that look too well. 

They sit in silence. It’s not the soft, warm silence they normally sit in. This one is heavy. Dean’s knee begins to bounce and he has to force himself to continue eating. 

“Dean, there’s something I have to tell you.” No there’s not, Dean wants to say. 

“Okay?” He says instead, grateful for the excuse to push his food aside. 

“You are aware of my court case, next month.” Dean nods. “Well, depending on the outcome, I...may not come back.”

“What? Why?” Cas gives him a sad look. 

“I’ve committed a crime. My actions killed many people.” Dean’s heart drops when he realizes. “I don’t regret anything, Dean, but it is the reality and I don’t want to catch you off guard if I don’t come back.” The words “to you” go unspoken. 

“Cas, I-“

“I just wanted to let you know.” Cas then stand and packs up his garbage, hands the container empty of Mac n cheese back to Dean. “I’ll see you later, Dean. Wish Sam a happy birthday for me.”

And with a sad smile, he is gone. And Dean is alone. Part of him wants to run in after Cas and plea to flee the country. Another part of him wants to laugh at how stupid he was to get so close. Another part of him is angry. The last part of him, deep down inside, says it’s for his own good. He was never going to be fixed enough to be with Castiel anyway.


	10. Duct Tape Patchwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean’s hurt and falling apart all over again. No one is here to catch him this time so it’s up to him to put himself back together even if it’s just temporary

Dean leaves the gas station after about five minutes of shock pass over him. He ignores Cas’ gaze through the window as he pulls Baby out of the parking lot and on to the road. 

Dean goes to his physical therapy appointment. He shakes with weakness and bites his lip to keep from crying out through his exercises. He withers underneath Dr. Mill’s mothering look. 

“Dean, your shoulder will never get better if you continue to push it so hard.” She says with soft eyes that Dean can’t meet. 

“It’s never going to heal anyway, so what’s the point?” He snarls. At her unimpressed look he puts his tail between his legs. “I’m sorry.” 

Dr. Mills only hums. She rubs a salve on Dean’s shoulder that burns the inside of his nostrils. 

“Are you gonna talk or do I need to get Missouri on the phone.” Dr. Mills says while she rubs at his arm. This way Dean doesn’t have to meet her eyes and he’s grateful for the gesture. 

“It-“ At Dr. Mills quirked eyebrow Dean changes his mind and decides on the truth. “My...friend Cas, he might go to jail.” 

“What for?” She’s got a nonchalance tone that he knows isn’t fake. He could drop the topic and she’d just have him talk to someone else. 

“He got people killed.” Dean hisses as the doctor rubs as a particularly painful spot. “And I know it’s not right. If someone made a decision that got Sam killed I want them put away, but Cas is... he’s a good person.” 

“Bad things happen to good people, Dean. You’re an example of that.” 

Dean doesn’t say anything after that. Dr. Mills tells him to go through his at home stretches. Dean thanks her and by the time he gets home from the grocery store with ingredients he’s put himself back together haphazardly with duct tape. 

It’s not a permanent fix and it’s hard for his heart to beat when it’s being held together so desperately tight. It’ll work for now. 

Sam notices his patch work when he gets home to a vanilla cake frosted sloppily with chocolate frosting. He doesn’t say anything about it. Instead he eats two slices of cake before Dad gets home from work. 

They have a family meal. It’s normal. At least what used to be normal. Mom and Dad are both here and present. They all laugh and pretend Mary hasn’t been MIA for the last week, or that there isn’t a Jamison bottle in the trash next to a few empty cases of beer, or even that Sam has dark bags under his eyes and a small scratch on his forehead. 

Then act like a normal family. Afterwards they finish the cake and head their separate ways. 

Dean and Sam drive to the shop to grab the Camaro. Sam had chosen a navy blue that sparkles in the light and Dean can’t help the pride the rises at the look of the restored car. 

“She’s a beaut.” Dean whistles. “Let’s see how she handles.”

Sam catches the keys and they pull out of the auto shop. They drive out to now where, leaving the town lights behind them. The roads are dark and winding. The Camaro drives smooth like fine whiskey, not as smooth as the Impala of course. 

Sam doesn’t play music, instead listening to the music of the engine eating up pavement. 

Eventually he pulls over at an open field. Their field. The last time they were here was the Fourth of July before Dean left. There’s no fireworks this time. He isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to enjoy fireworks again. 

“So, how does it feel to be a year older?” Dean asks as they settle themselves on the hood of the car. 

“Not much different.” Sam shrugs. “I think my hair is starting to grey, though.” 

“Knew it.” Dean smiles, it’s a little easier then it was.

They sit in silence looking at the stars and the moon. Sam doesn’t ask what’s wrong and Dean doesn’t say. Instead they bask in the short term glory of their accomplishment. 

“Sam?” Dean asks finally. “Did you know Cas could go to jail?” 

“Yeah.” Sam sighs with a weight too heavy for a seventeen year old. “I knew it was a possibility. There’s a chance he might not or maybe it’ll only be a few years. “

A few years. Dean has been free for five months and it feels like a lifetime and a blink all at once. 

“Do you still want to go?” Sam asks tentatively. 

All Dean has to do is say no. If he says he can’t and it’d be too hard they wouldn’t go. It’s that simple. One word and they won’t have to sit in a room and let people who don’t know Cas decide his fate. 

Dean can’t though. That’s not who he is. Cas is family, his brother. Dean doesn’t leave people behind. 

“Yes.” He says and slides off the hood. 

They drive back home under the light of the moon trying to shine through a large cloud. Dean puts in a tape and Sam doesn’t protest. 

Unbeknownst to Dean Sam is praying as the car they brought back to life speeds down old worn roads. He knows Dean has given up hope in God and angels long ago, but praying got him one miracle maybe it can get him another.


	11. Shattered and Scattered Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s time for Cas to go. He’ll be leaving two brother behind, one simply sad and the other shattered

A week passes. Dean blows off Cas once for lunch but doesn’t again because he can’t stand the rejected look in those blue eyes. So they eat lunch together the next day. They talk pleasantly enough, more like coworkers then friends, or whatever they were before. Cas doesn’t push. He must see Dean’s walls because he doesn’t ask Dean’s how he’s really doing or about therapy or anything else that isn’t surface level. 

That weightless ability to just be between them has shattered into a thousand anvil like pieces. It hurts but it is better then the alternative. Whatever that may have been. 

Sam notices Dean’s walls too, he doesn’t say anything either. He just lets Dean laugh and wave things off. To make up for it Sam seems to leave himself completely open, not closing off at all and it pisses Dean off more then he wants to admit. 

His shoulder has gone back to it’s dull ache. Dr. Mills says it’ll get better when Dean stops working at the shop. That date is coming up sooner then Dean feels he’s ready for. 

Sam’s last day of school is a week away, Cas’ court date three weeks. Not that any of that matters because they are celebrating tonight. Well, they’re going to a diner that has Sam’s favorite sweet potato fries. 

They aren’t really celebrating anything. They’re saying goodbye. Cas’ plane leaves in six hours and Dean won’t be seeing him off because even if he managed to walk into that airport he’d never be able to make it out without Cas. Not to mention they need two drivers to get Dean back because Cas’ car will be left there to be returned. So Cas will take his pick up truck alone. 

It’s quiet, almost mournful. Dean can’t bring himself to say anything or eat much of his food. Sam’s trying, he’s asking questions in attempt to get conversation flowing but it always dries up quickly. 

Cas is having a debate in his head across the booth from him. Dean can tell by the way his intense blue gaze is fixed sharply on his plate of food he hasn’t touched. 

“We should get going.” Dean says as the clock hits ten. The plane doesn’t leave until four in the morning but Dean knows you should be there three hours before your flight and it is a two and a half hour drive to the airport. 

“Yeah.” Sam sighs. Cas pays for the meal and everyone just seems to tired to fight him. Or maybe they just want to let him do something for the Winchester brothers one last time. 

They’ll see him again in two weeks for the trial. Cas doesn’t know that so that sets the somber mood. Also it’s not like they’ll be able to talk with him during it or most likely after. 

They walk at snail’s pace to the Camaro they had taken here. Dean had made a fuss about it trying to replace his Baby. He knows that’ll never happen. 

“Dean,” Cas’ hand finds Dean’s arm and he stops, “I...”

“Sam head home, I’ll be back later.” Dean says forcing his eyes away from the blue ones to look at his brother. 

“I can wait in the car.” Sam offers. 

“Sam, it’s nice out. Walking’ll help my nerves or whatever.” Sam sees past his lie but nods. 

“Thank you, Cas.” Sam says and hugs Cas tight. Blue eyes widen in surprise but he hugs Sam back tightly. 

“Goodbye, Sam.” Cas says. 

They both watch the Camaro drive off until the lights fade and it eventually turns a corner, disappearing completely from view. They stand there a little longer, almost pretending to still see the vehicle. It buys time, but not enough. 

“Dean, it doesn’t feel right to leave like this.” Cas finally says. 

“You don’t gotta choice, Cas.” Dean says with a sad smile, trying to make it easier for his friend. 

“I-“

“Hey,” Cas eyes stop trying to stab him with some intense message and his shoulder’s slump in his trench coat. “We’re both going to be fine.”

“I know you will be.” There’s a small tired smile on his face, it’s little more then the slightest quirk of half of his mouth. “You know I’ve never felt like I was leaving something -someone- behind before. My departure for my service wasn’t anything tearful and there wasn’t anything left for me when I was discharged.”

Cas takes a step forward and Dean can feel his heart pounding in his chest like a jack hammer. His feet are stuck. He can’t step away or towards the man in front of him. 

“You’ve made me see things differently, Dean. I think I can face my actions now. I understand humanity a little better now having known you. It’s chaotically ugly yet beautiful at the same time.”

“Cas?” Dean manages to choke out. It’s not goodbye he’ll see him next week but it’ll be like an outsider looking in. Now they are both on the outside and it hurts like a too tight hug. 

“You are a good man, Dean Winchester. Saving you will be my greatest achievement, and I will not regret it a second of my life. I hope you will do the same.” 

If Dean was braver, smarter, stronger, be would take the single step forward and close the space between them. He’d kiss Cas and he would still have to leave but Dean would have shown Cas how he feels about him. That he feels the same way. To give him something to hold on to. 

Instead Dean stands like a stature as Cas walks to his pick up truck. He does nothing but stare as the door is unlocked. 

“Goodbye, Dean.” Cas says and then he’s starting his car and driving away. 

Dean isn’t sure how long he stands there hating himself. Eventually he begins to walk home. He doesn’t feel attached to his own body anymore. He tries to say the words out loud to the dark town but nothing comes out. So he rips off his duct tape patchwork job and begins to walk home in pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof another depressing chapter I promise we’re getting to a happy point soon


	12. When the Clock Runs Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean are racing to get to Washington for Cas’ trial. The universe has other plans

“Sam, there is no way we are driving out of our way to see finger paintings.” 

“We’ve got the time, and it’s the MET it’s full of famous pieces.”

“You say that like it’s supposed to change my mind.” Dean snarks from behind the wheel. 

“You’re unbelievable.” Sam throws his head against the headrest. “I want to go to at least one museum on this trip.”

“How about the Museum of the American Gagster?”

“You made that up.”

“Did not! The big apple is full off all kinds of culture.” 

“It’s too close to your cowboy fetish.”

“I don’t have fetish.” Dean feels lighter then before. It’s most likely the open road and his brother’s good mood but either way Dean feels okay. 

Sam grumbles something Dean doesn’t try to understand. 

“If we do mine we can go to the Houdini’s Museum.” Dean offers. 

“He’s got a museum?” Sam’s eyes get big with a wonder Dean hopes he never looses. 

“Yep.” 

“Deal.” Sam replies easily before they settle into a comfortable silence. 

They’re four days into their trip. They’ve been to Chicago, Nashville, and a beach in South Carolina. Along with a dozen little stops in between. Their next stop is Washington before New York. 

Cas’ trial is in three days and they are making perfect time. 

Then there’s a bad crash on the highway. It takes them an entire day to get through North Carolina. Dean keeps anxiously doing the math in his head, they won’t have time to see the sights in Washington before the trial but that’s okay. 

Dean’s fallen asleep. Dreaming of blue eyes just as usual, this time there’s soft hair and warm lips too. It would be nice dream if someone wasn’t poking him, wait poking?

“Dean!” Sam is hissing at him in the conscious world. 

“What?” Dean grunts sleepily. He’s slept a total of ten hours the last four days. Even less the week between Cas leaving and Sam’s last day of school. 

It’s then he notices the car is stopped and there are blue and red lights flashing behind them. Shit. 

“What did you do, grandma?” Dean asks. They did not have time for this. 

“I don’t know! I was going the speed limit on the dot, we don’t have a headlight out-“

“Okay, okay.” Dean softens his voice because Sam is clearly freaking out. “It’s fine, we didn’t do anything wrong, right?”

“Yeah, right.” Sam takes a few delineate breaths. 

“Good.” Dean encourages. He wants to switch places with his brother but the officer is already getting out of the car and walking towards them. “Stay calm and keep your hands where they can see them.”

“Okay.” Sam sounds a little less scared now, but his hand has made its way to his mouth to bite at his nails. 

The officer taps on the window and Sam scrambles to crank it down. 

“What are you boys doing out here so early?” The officer asks, she’s got a take no shit attitude on her face and her dark hair is tied in what looks to be painfully tight against her head. 

“Just on a summer road trip, officer.” Dean brings out the panty dropping smile. The officer, Billy Reapmen, doesn’t look impressed. 

“You boys aware your plate are stolen?” 

“What?” Sam squeaks out. “These were on the car when we got it.”

“And where’d you get it?” Reapmen drawls. 

“A scrape yard up in South Dakota.” Dean answers because Sam looks like a ghost under the flashlight. “Our uncle owns the yard, I got his number if ya want.”

“I do.” Dean writes it down a sheet a paper and the officer stalks back to her car. 

“Dean, we don’t have time for this.” 

“I know.” Dean growls and resist the urge to yell, or tell Sam to step on it. She has their plate numbers, they wouldn’t get far especially in a big city. 

From the rear view mirror he can practically hear Bobby swearing up a storm at being woken up at...four o clock in the morning. 

It takes almost an hour before the officer comes back saying they can go. Sam had fallen asleep so Dean drives, making sure to stick to the speed limit until they are well out of town. 

“Dean,” Sam starts he’s doing the math too. 

“I know, I know.” They aren’t going to make it. A sign catches Dean’s eye along with a crazy idea. “I’ve got a plan.” 

He exits off the highway and pulls into a park lot not too far away. Sam is looking at him with disbelief as Dean gets out of the car. 

“You sure?” Sam asks as they grab their duffles and lock the Camaro. 

“Cas’ trial is in two hours and we have almost four more to go.” Dean says almost more so to himself then to Sam. 

The airport is busy. Dean sticks close to Sam and focuses on one step at a time. First they need tickets. 

The lady at the desk is cheery and is able to get them two seats on the next pane to Washington DC. Then they are ushered like cattle through security and their luck turns around when their duffles are the right size and weight to be carryons. 

Dean doesn’t have time to panic until they are waiting twenty minutes to board. Then it hits him at once. 

His knees bounce and he bites at his nails while trying to find the exits. There aren’t many. 

“Come on.” Dean jumps when Sam takes his arm and away from their seats. 

“Sam, I can’t eat anything unless you want to say hi to it again in a half an hour.”

“I know.” Sam says simply. 

He brings them into a drugstore. The stuff here is three times what they’d pay at the drug store across the street from the airport, but Sam doesn’t seem to care because he grabs one and begins to inspect it. 

“It’s only a three hour flight, I don’t want to be drowsy for when we get there.” 

“Dude, a sleeping pill is only going to knock you out for an hour maybe two tops.” Nether the less Sam exchanges one pill bottle for another. 

They check out and Sam buys water bottles too. He then fills those up from the drinking fountains before bringing them back to their seats. 

Ten minutes later they’re called to board. Dread hits heavy in Dean’s stomach. It sits so heavy he fears he won’t be able to stand. 

“Dean, no one is making you do this.” It would almost be easier if someone was. “I can go by myself or we can head back to the car, it’s your call.”

“I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t go.” Dean stands, shoulders his bag and joins the line of half asleep passengers. 

He almost believes he can do this until he sees his seat is in the middle of a row that already has two people occupying it. He double, tripe checks his ticket. The empty seat is his seat. 

“Sam?” Dean feels his chest tighten up. 

“It’s fine.” San nudges him a few steps up so he can fix his puppy dog eyes on the business woman and man in the row. “Excuse me, my brother has PTSD and hates flying, would I be able to switch places with one of you so we could sit together?” 

Dean would be embarrassed if he didn’t feel like the world was closing in around him. His fingers tap Metallica on to his bag strap. His shoulder feels like it’s heating up, but he forces himself to take a deep breath. 

“I’ve already got by bag in the overhang.” The man on the isle says, at least that’s what Dean thinks he says because things are starting to sound like their underwater. 

He squeezes his eyes tightly shut as the underwater feeling increases and a ringing in his ear begins. His knees buckle and he’s a half second from collapsing in the middle of the plane when Sam shoves him into the edge seat while his brother takes the middle. 

Sam gently pushes Dean’s head between his legs and rubs at his back until Dean feels the plane start to move. He sits ram-rode straight in his chair and white knuckles both armrests. Sam is saying supposably calming things to him but he can’t hear it over the roar of the engine. 

Dean pukes twice before the plane levels out. Sam hands him a peppermint he gets from God knows where and another pill from the drugstore. Dean sucks on it anyway. 

“Here.” Sam hands him his Walkman. 

Any other time Dean would hate to be mothered. But the world is shaking, they’re tens of thousands of feet above solid ground, he can barely breath, so he takes the headphones and allows Metallic to wash over him. 

He ends up puking twice more while they are in the air and one last time while they are landing. The brothers sprint through the airport and hail a cab. There’s only one thing they didn’t account for. Morning rush hour. 

The sprint to the court house and when they get to the room it’s 8:05 and there are two burly looking guards in front of the closed doors. 

“De,” Sam starts like he can’t believe it. They had taken a fucking plane to get here and they are still too late. 

“Come on, Sammy.” Dean pulls them out of the cold building before they get in trouble. 

There’s a warm patch of sun in a grassy area across from where the trial is. Dean sets them up there, and leans against the bags to watch the doors with his brother. At least they’ll get to see Cas again no matter what happens, even if Cas doesn’t see them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters are kinda short but I feel like they all end nicely. I don’t know


	13. Prison and Desperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas appears and Dean is not letting him go -wherever he’s going- without saying a few things

Dean falls asleep. Either from the lack of sleep the past weeks, exhaustion from the anxiety of the plane ride, the warm sun, or a mixture of each, he falls asleep. 

He dreams of his prison, which isn’t uncommon. He dreams of bars and dirty cement. In the old man’s cell across from his is Cas. He looks skinny and and sick. Dean tries to give him food but he just tosses it down the hall where no one can reach it. 

Cas gets thinner and thinner and he coughs up blood, but he keeps throwing Dean’s offered food away. 

“Cas, take the fuckin’ food!” Dean screams. “You’re gonna die!” 

Cas just smiles a hallow smile, his teeth fallen to the floor, and he sings. “Dean, Dean, Dean the king, only death does he bring! Dean, Dean, Dean the king, only death does he bring! Dean, Dean-“

“Dean!” That isn’t Cas’ dissociated voice. “Dean!” 

He snaps awake. His face feels too hot and it takes him a moment to remember where he is. Next to him Sam is waving his arms with an excitable look. 

“Look!” Sam shouts, “Cas!” 

Dean immediately perks up and stands by his brother. He scans the area and sees Cas just down the street. Dean’s stomach drops when he sees an officer is next to him. 

“Cas!” Dean shouts. “Come on.” He and Sam grab their duffles and sprint for their friend. 

Their legs are asleep from having been curled up on the ground for the last handful of hours, and running with a bag is awkward. Still they run. 

The run as a cab pulls up to Cas and the run as Cas gets inside with the officer and they keep running until the cab begins to pick up speed. They’re loosing him. Again. 

No. A feeling of desperate fear fills him. Watching Cas get in the cab feels as if he’s disappearing. Dean can’t do that. The idea had been tough to swallow but now that it’s right in front of him he can’t do it. Cas has to know he is here, he came for him, he understands that look in Cas’ eye Dean would catch and he feels it too. 

Dean thinks fast, he tugs brother to the sidewalk and for the first time in his life, hails a cab. He’s not really sure what to do, what he just saw Cas do it and he’s seen it a million times on tv. Sure enough he sticks his hand out while bouncing on the balls of his feet and a rusted yellow chariot arrives. 

“Follow that cab!” Dean orders, throwing some money through the slit. 

“Sir, I don’t know where that cab is going or if you-“

“Follow that cab, or I will pull you out of this piece of scrap metal and do it myself.” Dean growls, he isn’t sure what works. His piercing gaze, he first he pounds into the driver’s seat in front of him, or the desperation in his voice. 

“Fine, fuckin’ tourists.” The man grumbles and speeds off in pursuit of Cas’ cab with the neon green logo for some internet company. 

Dean is anxiously tapping his fingers against his duffle in his lap. Sam is biting at his finger nails and staring ahead, hazel eyes locked on the taxi a few cars a head of them. Dean’s knee is pressed against Sam’s, it’s practically the only thing preventing him from bursting out of the cab and trying to catch Cas himself. 

“You wanna try calling him?” Sam asks. 

“My phone doesn’t have a charge, does yours?” 

Their taxi weaves between cars in the wake of the neon green sign. How the other cab driver doesn’t see them following them in the rear view mirror, Dean has no clue. In his head Dean is picturing and old man with crippling cataracts that should no longer be driving. Yet there he is speeding ahead. 

Finally Cas’ cab pulls into the airport parking lot. They watch Cas get out, grab his suitcase from the trunk and enter the building. By the time their own cab pulls in Cas has disappeared inside. 

“If I have to get on another plane, I’m going to burn his trench coat.” Dean growls. He opens the door to leap out of the car before it’s stopped. 

“Sir, I need to be paid.” The driver snarls. 

“How much do we owe you?” Sam is already digging for his wallet. 

“$56.75.” Sam and Dean’s mouths drop. Shit. 

“You go.” Sam shoves Dean towards the door. 

“Sam-“ 

“I got it, go!” Sam helps shove Dean the rest of the way out the cab. 

Dean sprints up to the building. He shoulders past people and leaps over luggage like he hasn’t had to do since basic training. He shouts apologies to the curses left in his wake. He bursts through the doors of the airport and scans the crowd wildly. 

His eyes are searching for a tan trench coat, apparently it’s a more popular style in the big cities. There’s so many of them.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean grumbles before raising his voice. “Cas! Castiel?” 

He weaves through the bag check lines, shouting. People swear and push at him, but Dean’s got a mission. He’s too focused to spiral into panic. 

“Cas fucking Novak!” Dean gets hit with a handbag belonging to a mother of three children. “Sor-“

“Dean?” His eyes look around for the source of his name. 

There he is. Dean sees him, in the middle of a line in the far side. Cas’ coat is slung over the arm of his suit jacket. The officer is standing next to him. 

Dean elbows his way over, muttering apologies. Finally he’s in front of Cas. He doesn’t realize he’s out of breath until he stops. Dean puts his hands on his hips and tries to regain his breath. 

“Dean, what are you doing here?” Cas’ eyes are looking at him like he can’t believe he’s here. 

“It was Sam’s i-idea.” Dean takes a deep breath. “Shouldn’t have listen to the kid. We were supposed to surprise you and be at the trial, but there was a crash on the highway caused by some moose or something, and a crazy officer who was on the phone with Bobby for an hour trying to prove our car was stolen. I had to get on a plane, and I puked up a lung or kidney or something. Then there’s fricken’ traffic because apparently the entire city has to go somewhere at 7:30 in the morning. And I was going to burst into the court room like in that one movie I made you watch, but the guys’ arms were the size of-“ perfect. 

That’s the only word that fills Dean’s head as Cas’ lips are pressed against his. Perfect. Dean just begins to kiss back when those perfect lips pull away. 

“I’m sorry,” Cas looks mortified as Dean gasps when the break apart. “I promised myself I’d let you-“

Dean doesn’t care about whatever words Cas planned on saying next. He kisses Cas hard. It’s even more perfect this time. Will each kiss be better the the last? He really wants to spend a long time finding out. 

Too soon they both need to breath. They break apart and smile. This is Dean’s favorite smile he’s seen on Cas’ face so far. It’s a gummy sort of smile that stretches his cheeks and crinkles his bright eyes. 

Someone clearing their throat makes Dean take a step backwards. He had forgotten about the officer next to them. He should probably count himself lucky that he wasn’t tackled or something. 

“Dean, this is my cousin Alfie.” 

“Your what?” Cas laughs. 

“He offered to be there at my trial and then take me home.”

“Oh, you’re going home.” Dean tries not to look too pathetically crestfallen at the realization that Cas was going back to Illinois and not going to see him. 

“I was, but there’s no reason for me to fly to Kansas if you’re here.” 

“Oh.” Dean’s now blushing and scratching at the back of his neck. “Wait, you’re not going to jail?”

“No.” Cas smiles and takes both of Dean’s hands in his. Dean tries not to think about how sweaty his hands must be. “I owe 24,000 dollars to the families of my group, and I have 300 hours of community service to complete in the next two years, but I am not serving any jail time.”

Dean can’t help kissing Cas again. He feels like a puzzle piece being connected to the right piece. It feels so right. 

“Hello, I made it too.” Sam interrupts, holding both his own and Dean’s duffle bags. 

“Hello, Sam.” Cas hugs Sam before letting go and taking hold of Dean’s right hand. 

“So, you’re not going to jail?” Sam asks hopefully. 

“No, I will pay for my actions but I will not do it behind bars.” That makes Sam hug him again. This time Cas hugs him back one armed while keeping his fingers laced with Dean’s. 

“Okay Castiel, are you getting on the plane?” Alfie asks. 

“No, thank you, cousin.” Cas shakes hands with Alfie and the officer steps back into the line that has been moving around them. 

“So...what now?” Sam asks, setting down their bags. 

“I am not getting back on another plane.” Dean exclaims, Cas squeezes Dean’s hand and he squeezes back. Right now he can’t remember why he was so afraid of this. 

“How about we spend the day in DC?” Cas supplies. 

“I like that plan.” Dean smiles. “Where to first?” 

“I’ve got a better idea.” Sam intrudes. “I’ll go see all the boring monuments and museums I want, and you two go do something by yourselves.”

“By yourself?” Dean’s instinct are telling him no way in hell is he letting his little brother wander a strange big city on his own. 

“Ill charge my phone, it’ll be fine.” Sam explains. “I’ll call Cas, or you if you get a charger if I need anything. Otherwise we’ll meet at that diner across the street from here.”

Dean is working his jaw in thought. Cas is leaving it up to him but he has a feeling the dark haired man wants to spend time alone with him just as much. Clearly Sam doesn’t want to be a third wheel right now. 

“Okay.” Dean relents. “Text Cas when your phone is charged. Call if you need anything.” 

“Yes, Mom.” Sam snarks and rolls his eyes. “I’ll meet you there for supper at five-thirty.” 

With a short goodbye and Sam’s teasing eyebrows spasming on top of his head, Dean shoves his brother away. Sam leaves with his duffle draped across his body and both Dean and Ca watch him leave the airport. 

“Wha- what do you want to do?” Dean asks, clearing his throat. 

“I haven’t eaten anything besides some vending machine chips in the last five hours. I want food.” Cas says, picking up his suit case. Dean’s stomach growls audibly at the mention of food. “Have you eaten anything since you lost an organ on your heroic plane ride here?”

“Um...” Dean racks his brain for the last time he ate. The only thing that comes to mind is the gas station jerky he ate on Virgina almost two days ago. 

“I believe lunch is an appropriate first date.” Cas smiles at him like they have a private joke. Dean supposes they do.


	14. The Same but Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’ve got the time and the space now there not much else to figure out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for smut

They find themselves in a park. They are sitting on a bench, holding the best tacos Dean has ever tasted. He’s got sauce dripping down his chin that his tongue has to chase before it hits his shirt and Cas has tucked his suit jacket into the suit case he’s got sitting next to him. His dress shirt sleeves are sloppily rolled to his elbows. 

They’re just talking. Dean’s telling him about when him and Sam had been in Chicago a few days ago and he paid a clown three candy bars to follow them around for an hour to freak Sam out. Cas is laughing that contagious laugh, and it’s not different. It’s a strange sensation of nothing and everything has changed. 

Things are a little different, Dean kisses the bit of sour cream off Cas’ lip. Cas has never had a firm grasp of person space, but now when their legs brush against each other once Cas presses them together. It’s like the same movie with a different director. The tone is different and all the little things that had been ignored are brought to light. 

Their tacos are done, Dean is sucking the juice and sauce from his fingers. Cas licking his lips and smiling at him. They stand, Dean’s duffle is sitting on top of Cas’ suitcase that he convinced Cas to let him roll behind him. 

“We need pie.” Cas states as if commenting on the weather. 

“Cas you don’t have to-“

“But I want to take my boyfriend out to celebrate with pie.” Cas says teasingly before blushing hard. “I mean if that’s uh...”

“Yes, I’d like to get pie with my boyfriend.” Dean can feel his cheeks heating up. 

“Okay, Let’s go find some pie.” They lace their fingers together, something that’s becoming a habit between the two of them. Dean can’t wait for the other habits they’re going to start. 

Cas hails a cab. The impala as never been missed more then an old Italian man blaring Miley Cyrus while two the two of them are crammed in the backseat with their luggage. Dean would feel claustrophobic if it wasn’t for the sky blue eyes next to him making him feel as if he’s sitting next to an ocean. 

A slice of pie is found at a little cafe. It costs Cas thirty dollars for a sliver because he outright refused to let Dean pay saying it was his idea and what not. Thirty dollars buys them a silver of peanut butter jelly pie that Dean chose instead of the warm and gooey apple cinnamon sitting next to it. 

They share it and it tastes damn good. Dean isn’t sure if it’s because it’s a quality piece or that Cas and him are wedged into the same side of booth and anything tastes good on Cas’ lips. Either way it’s worth the thirty dollars. 

When the plate is cleared Dean just kisses Cas because he can, instead of trying to lick the whipped cream from his lips. Cas is eagerly trading kisses with Dean and his hand is trailing down Dean’s good arm. 

“Cas,” he gets a hum in return as he pulls away, “we’re gonna get in trouble for public indecency, and right after you’ve just avoided the slammer.”

“I’ve got a hotel room.” Cas offers tracing circles into the back of Dean’s hand. 

Dean hesitates. Dean hasn’t slept with anyone since he got back and nightmares kill any morning wood, thankfully sharing a bed with his brother could get awkward. He waits for any fear or anxiety. He waits for his messed up head to get in the way of what the rest of him wants. 

It never comes. All he can see are those sky blue eyes in front of him. All he can feel is Cas’ hand on his, and their legs tangled under the table. He’s ready. 

“Okay.” Dean says and Cas must read something in his voice because he doesn’t doubt him. 

“Dean, I’ve never...” Cas looks around as if someone may be listening in their conversation in the back of the mostly empty cafe. 

“What?” Dean’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “But you look like-well you.” 

“I wasn’t the most social in high school and I went directly from there to training to over seas.” Cas is blushing and picking at the sleeve of his dress shirt. As if that stopped Dean from getting some, but he doesn’t say that. 

“Do you want to?” Dean asks, tone neutral though he would be lying if he said he wouldn’t want Cas to fuck him hard, or fuck Cas hard, either way. 

“Yes, I believe I’m ready.” Cas nods confidently after not a moment’s reflection. 

Cas promises his hotel is right around the corner. It’s not. They walk across three intersections, ask for directions twice, and round four corners before they make it. It feels as if they’ve walked miles and miles, it doesn’t help Dean’s walking with his duffle in front of him to cover his hard on from Cas’ groping hands and heated gazes. 

Dean of course is returning the favor. He feels a blaze of pride and smirks every time Cas tries to discreetly adjust himself in his dress pants. It’s the longest ten minute walk of his life. 

Finally they are in the three star hotel, up in the elevator, and against the door of room number one sixty nine. Dean lost patience while waiting for Cas to unlock the door with the key card. He lets his lips explore the back of his new boyfriend’s neck. He discovers the spot behind Cas’ left ear that makes his breath shutter and his hips buck. 

Cas curses the lock and it makes Dean throw his head back and laugh. The light blinks green and they tumble into the room. Luggage thrown to the side Cas has Dean pressed against a wall and it feels so good. 

Cas’ lips are hot and swollen against his, their hips are bucking together needy and wild. Dean slides his hands beneath Cas’ shirt and racks his nails across the wide panels of skin and muscle. One of Cas’ hand is holding Dean’s head to prevent him hitting it against the door his other wanders up Dean’s shirt his fingers brush against a nipple that makes Dean arch against him. 

“Cas!” Dean moans loudly as their crotches grind together. 

He moves his hands to start unbuttoning Cas’ dress shirt. He’s greedy for more of the gorgeous man in front of him. He wants to see and feel simply more of Cas. He’s hot and desperate for the vast plains of smooth skin, the dark curls of hair, the shuddering breaths, deep moans, and gasps of pleasure. 

Cas’ hands tug at Dean’s shirt as Dean undoes the last button on the dress shirt. It’s fair Dean supposes, Cas has his shirt hanging open and it won’t be there much longer if Dean has anything to say about it. Still, an alarm bell goes off in his head. 

“Cas,” Dean says trying to pull away from those soft, perfect lips. “Cas, wait.”

That gets Cas’ attention and he immediately pulls his hands away to rest them gently on Dean’s hips. Those blue eyes are looking at him with concern and something Dean doesn’t dare name. He fills with guilt but he needs help getting through this next step. 

“It-“ Dean wets his lips and forces himself to keep Cas’ gaze. “It’s not pretty.” Is all he gets out. 

Confusion flashes across that face before understanding settles in. Cas kisses him softly once. Dean breaths it in and he’s calm. He doesn’t know why Cas has this ability to settle his rattling head. 

“You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to.” Cas says, rubbing circles into his hip. “We don’t have to stop but you can keep your shirt on, or I just won’t look.” 

Dean takes a deep breath. His hands are steady against Cas’ chest. His boyfriend waits patiently for him. He doesn’t push or pull him one way or another. He doesn’t insist that he should be ready or not. Cas just holds him steady.

“I want to.” He nods and he tucks one arm out of his shirt, ducks his head and allows Cas to slide the rest of it off of him. 

Dean feels his nipples pebble at the sudden cooler temperature. He forces himself to watch Cas’ face. There’s no horror or disgust marring those beautiful features. Cas observes his right shoulder as if admiring a bee that has landed in front of him. 

He knows what it looks like. There are deep gouges where chunks of skin were blasted from his shoulder from the explosion. In the valleys of the gouges it’s pale where new skin has finally grown in, it will always be shades lighter then the rest of him and clear of freckles. The raised part is red and veiny. The only one that has seen it since he has come home is Dr. Mills. 

“Does it hurt today?” Cas asks hovering a man above the wound. 

“No, just that dull ache that’s always going to be there.” Dean eyes Cas’ hand where it is above his shoulder. “You can touch it if you want, I’m not going to break.”

For the first time in a year he believes it. 

When Cas’ hand touches his shoulder a different sort of fire flares up. It’s not the burning kind he’s used to, it’s like fireworks dancing up his arm and down to his toes. Any last once of uncertainty is gone, burned away by Cas’ touch. 

Dean kisses Cas. The hand stays on his shoulder and the other cups his face. Their erections that had gone down are raging back and they are grinding their hips together again more desperate then before. 

He walks the slightly shorter man to the bed. The backs of their knees hit the mattress and they tumble down together. Cas rolls on top of him and cages him within his arms. This angle is much better. 

“I want to feel every inch of you.” Cas whispers as he sucks a dark hickey into his neck. 

“Cas, please! Fuck me, want you inside me!” Dean gasps as Cas kisses, licks, and bites his way down to suck at his nipples. “Lube and condoms in my bag left side pocket.” 

Cas nips at one nipple before licking the other. Then he gets up and retreats for Dean’s bag. 

“Cas!” Dean whines at the loss of contact. While he waits for Cas he wiggles out of his jeans, boxers, and socks. They had toed off their shoes when they had come in the room. Or maybe they were outside the room? 

Any thought evacuates Dean’s mind as he watches Cas standing at the food of the bed. Fierce eyes are locked on him as he undoes his pants and slowly slides them down along with his boxers. He’s just as Dean imagined, the treasure trail of dark curls leads to a thick cock, long, curved, and leaking pre cum. Dean’s mouth salivates at the sight. 

“Come here.” Dean reaches for Cas until the man is crawling into his arms, placing the lube and condoms next to Dean’s knee. 

They kiss as Cas hovers over him, knees and elbows bracketing Dean in. He doesn’t think he can get tired of kissing Cas, their lips moving together as if they’d been doing it for centuries. 

“You know what you’re doing?” Dean asks while reaching for the lube. 

“I understand the mechanics, yes.” Cas takes the lube from him and shuffles down. “Of course I’m going to need practice to find each and every angel and spot to take you apart.” 

Dean whines and bucks his hips into nothing. Cas laughs lightly and places a kiss to his knee. He then lubed up a finger and Dean doesn’t have to force himself to relax as a finger inches inside of him. 

Dean moans at the feeling, he hasn’t had anything in his hole in a while and it feels so good. 

“Am I doing it right?” Cas asks as if asking about a school project. His eyes are lust blown with slivers of sapphire circling the black. 

“Yeah, you got it, sweetheart!” Dean moans as Cas wiggles in another finger and slowly begins to scissor them. 

Dean is withering under Cas when the dark haired man finally decides Dean is ready. He has been fucking himself against Cas’ three fingers for what feels like forever. He had pleaded Cas to just fuck him but Cas hadn’t wanted to hurt him and Dean couldn’t seem to convince him he was ready. He sure did try though. 

Finally Cas is kissing him as he rolls on the condom. Before Dean can say please again to urge him on, Cas is slowly penetrating him, moaning and grunting as he goes. Dean in the other hand blabbers and moans at the drag of the cock inside of him. 

“Cas, give me a sec.” Dean gasps as Cas bottoms out. 

Cas waits, kissing him and flicking at his nipples until Dean begins to grind his hips. Cas gets the message and begins to move. Soon his boyfriend is snapping his hips and Dean is digging his blunt nails into his shoulders, trying to hold on. 

Cas comes first. His hips stuttering from their rhythm. Dean unlatches one of his hands from Cas’ shoulders to grab his neglected dick. Cas is still thrusting shallowly into him as he rides out his high. It takes Dean only a a couple of strokes before he is cumming too, painting both their stomachs and chests. 

“How do you feel?” Dean asks after Cas has rolled off of him to his good side. Dark locks of hair tickle his nose but he just buries it further to place a kiss to the head beneath. 

“Perfect.” Cas breaths, his breath cooling the cum splattered on Dean’s chest. “Did I do it right? Was it good for you?”

“Yeah, Cas.” Dean huffs a laugh. “Honestly, I can’t believe that was your first time.” 

“I promise I was a virgin an hour ago.” Cas kisses Dean’s chest and he can feel his smile through it. 

They lay there for a while. Cas’ head resting on Dean’s chest while Dean has an arm wrapped around him. He’s got a stupid smile on his face and he can feel it mirrored on Cas’ lips pressed against his chest. 

“Okay, I’ve got to shower.” Dean finally relents. “Especially if we are meeting Sam in...three hours.”

Cas grumbles incoherently as Dean untangles himself. The condom lays discarded where Cas had taken it off and thrown it to the floor. Dean picks it up and wraps it in a towel before tossing it in the garbage. 

“Come on, angel.” Dean calls over his shoulder as he walks into the bathroom. 

He smiles to himself as he hears Cas roll out of bed and trip over something as he follows Dean. Dean starts the water, allowing it to warm up before tugging Cas under the warm spray. 

It seems to be physically impossible to keep their hands off each other. They spend a long time in the shower exploring the other leisurely. They both end up hard again, and end up giving each other slick hand jobs. 

Afterwards, toweled dry, and warm, they collapse into bed in a tangle of limbs. Their legs tangle together like old friends reunited. Dean lays on his stomach Cas tucked under an arm who is pressing his forehead to Dean’s with an arm slung around his waist. 

Dean can’t remember the last time he has felt more comfortable. He would love to watch sleep over take Cas, his eyes fluttering closed and his face going slack, not that there is much tension there at the moment, but he’s too tired. The last few weeks have left him with a bone deep exhaustion, one he is finally allowing himself to give in to. So he does.


	15. Rest with the Rising Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas must leave their little sanctuary to meet Sam and head back towards the car. Are things looking up?

Dean wakes to something hitting his face. It’s not so much as a hit as it is more of an unaimed, flippant slap. It’s followed by a grumble and the body next to him is twisting about. 

“Dean, Dean!” Dean unscrambles the grumbling. 

“Wha?” He feels warm and safe it’s the first time in a long while he hasn’t woken scared and confused. He just wants to go back to sleep and wake up slowly to the beautiful man next to him. 

“Deannnn!” Cas groans, not in the sexy way he had been doing earlier. “Make it stop.”

“What?” Dean grumbles and snuggles his face into his pillow. 

“That insufferable sound.” Dean actually hadn’t noticed the sound until Cas had pointed it out. His phone’s guitar solo ringtone is playing through the room. 

He rolls over with a groan of annoyance and flail his arm around to the night stand for his phone. His arm finds nothing but he does knock off the alarm clock and nearly the lamp with it. 

“Ugh!” Cas burrows his head underneath a pillow. 

Dean begrudgingly rolls completely out of bed. His bare feet hit the carpet and he shivers as his naked form is exposed to room temperature. He winces ever so slight as he walks for his pants that had been kicked across the room. This is a different kind of sore, this one makes him smile and sort of blush at the slight uncomfortableness. 

He finds his jeans and gropes them for his phone. It’s tucked into the front pocket with Cas’ battery powered charger. He pulls it out and squints at the bright screen. Sam is calling. 

“Sam?” Worry fills him, Sam is only supposed to call if something is wrong. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Dean can practically see the eye roll he’s getting, “are you?”

“Umm...” Dean glances at Cas who is now sitting up in bed with adorably tussled hair. “Yeah, why?”

“Then where the hell are you?” Dean has to pull the phone away from his ear as Sam’s voice raises in volume and his voice cracks. 

“At Cas’ roo...” Dean checks the time. “Shit.” They were supposed to meet Sam at the diner a half hour ago. “We’re on our way, we-“

“I don’t want the details just get over here before I eat without you.” Sam promptly hangs up. 

When he looks over at Cas again he finds him out of bed and wandering the room in search of his clothing. Dean admires him in a way he didn’t have the time for earlier. His dark hair is actual sex hair now, instead of the messy sex hair look he normally rocks. His legs are muscular and leads up to a slim waist, cut stomach, profound peck muscles, and thick arms. 

Cas’ blue eyes catch his and he feels a blush spread across his face and ears. He ducks his head and begins getting dressed. He digs clean boxers out of his duffle so he doesn’t have to wear the pre cum crusted ones he had had on before. 

“Ready?” Dean asks, his duffle thrown over Cas’ suit case handle again. 

Cas walks up to him from where he was trying to tame his hair in the full length mirror on the wall. He presses a kiss to Dean’s lips. It’s sweet and he can feel Cas’ message. He’s not leaving. This isn’t a one time thing. Dean kisses back just as hard, trying to portray the same message. 

Dean pulls away, knowing if this goes on any longer they’ll never leave the room. They’ve created a sanctuary inside these grotesquely wallpapered walls. A place where there isn’t any nightmares, panic attacks, or shooting pains. 

Instead of tugging them back into the safety of the sheets, Dean laces his fingers with Cas’. Then he grabs their suit cases stacked on top of each other and they leave the room together. 

He catches a glance of himself in the mirror as they leave. The bags under his eyes are lighter, his eyes are brighter, the small smile on his face is more natural. The man looking back at him is a Dean Winchester he hasn’t seen in a long time. 

They walk the fifteen minutes from the hotel to the diner. The taxi and airplane rides had not been something they had budgeted for. There is enough money for them to get a train ride, pay for gas and food. That’s it. 

Sam is sitting at a table with three waters in front of him. He’s glaring at them just as he has been since he saw them through the window. 

Dean feels bad. He feels bad for letting his brother sit alone in a strange diner in a strange city for so long. He doesn’t feel bad about sleeping with Cas, both literally and figuratively. 

So he sits down across from his brother with Cas at his side with a sheepish look. 

“Sorry Sammy, we fell asleep.” Sam’s gaze softens under his apology. 

“Next time I’m eating without you.” Sam grumbles but drops it. 

“So what’d you do?” Dean asks after the waitress takes their orders. 

“I went to see the capital, I couldn’t go inside but I got to see it. And I saw the Washington Monument, I mean it was built by slaves which is awful but it’s still amazing to see what humans can build. And I saw- oh, I got pictures!” Sam digs for his phone, Dean smiles at the kid’s rattling. All was forgiven. 

Sam scoots his chair over to their side of the table to show Dean his pictures. Dean takes the phone so he can angle it towards Cas. Sam goes through each picture, talking about the history and the stuff he learned. 

Dean listened carefully. Smiling and making jokes here and there. At the same time he has looped his leg around Cas’ under the table. He caught Cas’ small smile on his face in the corner of his eye. 

The waitress comes with their food and Sam moves his chair back to the other side of the table. Dean grins wolfishly at his pulled pork sandwich and French fries. 

“So what did you guys do?” Sam asks as he squirts ketchup on his chicken sandwich. “PG details only please.” 

Dean kicks his brother under the table and feels his face heating up. He’s normally more smug about having sex and rubbing the details in his little brother’s face until he’s as red as a tomato and fleeing the room. This is different though. It’s the beginning of something lasting -hopefully. It’s Cas. 

“We ate lunch, walked around for a bit, got pie.” Dean shrugs and picks up his sandwich for a bite. “Went to his hotel room and slept.” 

“Okay, well while you were getting your beauty sleep I checked out trains from here to Charlottesville.” Sam pulls out his phone. “There’s one leaving at eight thirty we should be able to make.” 

“Sounds good,” Dean says with a mouth full of sandwich before swallowing. “We’ll eat and head over to get tickets.” 

They make it to the station with thirty minutes to spare. Things are starting to look up. They pile enough money together to get three tickets next to each other and board the train. 

Dean has never been on a train before. He’s seen them in movies, but those have bandits boarding or witches and wizards on their way to school. This reminds him more of a bus crossed with an airplane, but more bus than airplane since it doesn’t leave the ground like God intended. 

“I want the window seat!” Sam calls as he walks across their row to the seat next to the window. 

“Cas, you want the isle?” Dean asks more out of curtesy then anything.

He watches Cas’ eyes check both exits, both the doors and the emergency ones. It’s the first time he has shown any sign of PTSD. The realization hits Dean hard. Has Cas been battling this by himself? 

He’s seemed fine. Then again the only place they went was Winchester’s parentless house, a fairly empty auto shop, or the back of a bar. Dean makes a note to make an effort to talk to his boyfriend when they are back home. For now he settles for squeezing his hand. 

“You can take the seat, thank you.” Cas says, rattling Dean from his thoughts.

Dean takes the isle seat, selfishly grateful. Sam is already knee deep in one of the many books he has brought on their trip. Dean tries to read one of his own books while they wait for the train to start moving. 

About two paragraphs in his eye lids begin to grow heavy. He feels tired even though he’s had two naps today, it’s been a stressful last few days in his defense. Puking on airplanes, chasing cars, it makes for a tiresome person. 

Giving in, Dean sets his book back on his bag below the seat in front of him and leans back in his chair. It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep, just before sleep fully claims him he feels his head lull to a shoulder. The last thing he feels is another head resting over his and a short kissing being pressed to his hair. 

As he sleeps he dreams of a dirty little girl. Her eyes bright but her smile broken. He dreams of a dirty cement floor and bars between them. The girl lying on the floor crying silently and Hey Jude filling the empty space of Hell around them.


	16. Lulled Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reality is an anvil and Winchesters are no strangers to gravity

The changes are subtle. Sam muses as he stares out the window at the east coast rolling past the window. His book is wedged between his seat and the side of the train, he doesn’t feel like reading at the moment. His head is too busy. 

Much too busy thinking about his brother and his best friend finally getting together. The changes are subtle between the two now. It’s like watching ice melt into water. Slow, and painless, the same hydrogen and oxygen base but in a different form. 

There’s the hand holding. They are doing lots of that. It’s cute, and Dean’s blushing is always a plus, he’s doing more of that too. There’s also more smiling, not the stifled smile both Dean and Cas had been doing before. 

Then there are the things that are less noticeable. Most likely only Sam will take note of them. Dean’s eyes are brighter, almost looking like spring fields again instead of the evergreen hue they have been due to the dark bags that were carried under his eyes. His face is smoother, the deep lines on his forehead are nearly gone. He looks twenty three instead of pushing forty. His steps are lighter, as if it isn’t as much of an effort to pick his feet up. He looks more like he did before he left. 

A whimper comes from the end of their row of seats. The lines Sam had just thought to be gone are back as Dean’s face twists in distress. Sam knows these signs; Dean is having a nightmare. 

Cas, who had been reading a book Sam had found in a bargain bin in one of the gift shops he visited, now is eyeing Dean with concern. 

“Sam-“ Cas starts, eyes shooting to Sam for direction. 

“Just leave him.” Sam says regretfully. “You can’t force him out of it, he’ll panic.”

A panicked Dean meant a Dean who thought someone needed to be protected. Most of the time that is either Sam or Dean himself. Sam’s cheek throbs distantly at the memory of his brother’s fist. 

Sam, still half asleep, had tried to wake Dean who was screaming from whatever his mind was conjuring up for him. Dean had snapped awake and punched Sam in the cheek before realizing who he was. Dean had spent the rest of that night in the bathroom puking with the door locked. He had left early that morning before Sam who had been sitting outside the door had woken. They didn’t talk about it again, nor did it happen again. 

Now Cas sits ramrod straight in his seat as he watches Dean’s face anxiously. Sam taps a tuneless song into his arm rest. This is what happens when Winchesters get too comfortable, even for a little bit, reality comes crashing in. 

“No, no.” Dean mumbles, twisting his head further into Cas’ shoulder. “Stop! Leave her alone.”

Sam’s fingers tap faster. 

“You’re okay, Dean.” Cas tries, drawing circles into Dean’s tight fist and pressing a kiss to his hair. It aches a little to watch, Cas’ eyes full of distress at Dean quiet cries. 

The next twenty minutes pass. Thankfully this is one of Dean’s quieter nightmares, but they are still getting glares from other passengers sitting close by. Sam shoots them all a look Dean has deemed his guard dog look and they all advert their eyes shamefully. 

Another five minutes pass and Dean snaps awake with a gasp. His eyes are wild and he grips the armrests as he tries to ground himself. He calms down after about thirty seconds of heavy breathing. 

“I’m, uh, yeah.” And with that Dean is scrambling out of his chair and to the bathrooms at the back of their cart. 

Cas moves to stand and go after Dean, but Sam grabs his shoulder. When Cas turns to him his eyes are filled with a protective look that Sam understands. Yet he can’t let him chase his brother. 

“Give him time.” Sam says, not releasing his grasp on the trench coat. “He’ll be back soon. He just needs a breather.” 

Cas sits back begrudgingly. The man’s arms cross and his foot is taping against the floor. 

Sam goes back to look out the window. He can see Cas’ reflection as he shifts as if his seat is suddenly the most uncomfortable thing in the world. He watches Cas pick up his book again for about ten seconds, then put it back down. 

“Is it like this every night?” Cas asks. 

Sam hesitates. Dean’s privacy is very important to him, especially about what he calls weaknesses. Then he remembers Dean letting Cas comfort and hold him when he had an episode at the bar. He remembers the soft looks the two are giving each other. They have something, something special between them. 

“Most nights, yeah.” Sam finally answers. 

“You have them too?” Cas asks next, startling Sam. 

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.” Sam hasn’t really spent much time on it.

“You don’t have to go through this alone, Sam.” Cas says with a knowing look that Sam can’t hold. 

“I’m fine.” Sam replies before returning his gaze to the window. 

“Well, I’m here to talk if you would like.” Cas offers and drops the subject. 

“Yeah, thanks, Cas.” 

Sam can’t afford to be anything but fine. Dean needs him at 100%. His brother knows about his nightmares, Dean has always been a light sleeper, and he’s worried, but they’re Winchesters so they don’t talk about it. So they both go about their day pretending to be fine, one doing a better job at it then the other. 

Now Sam and Cas wait for Dean to come out of the bathroom where Sam knows his brother is scrubbing his face with water and waiting for his hands to stop shaking. He’ll hum Hey Jude or a Metallica song to himself softly and regain his breath. 

Then he’ll come back out and pretend he’s fine, and Sam and Cas will pretend he’s fine. Because they’re Winchesters and Castiel is fitting right in. 

Dean comes back about ten minutes later on steady legs. He gives them a grim smile as he returns to his seat. His face is slightly pink from scrubbing and his nails are a little shorter, but he’s fine. 

Cas immediately grabs hold of Dean’s hand and presses his leg to Dean’s. Sam rests his head against the window and closes his eyes. He hasn’t had two naps today like his brother, so not too long after his eyes close he’s asleep. 

An hour and a half later they arrive back in Charlottesville. The car is just as they left it, thankfully. 

Sam wordlessly hands over the keys to his brother. Cas sits in the passenger seat next to his brother, he figures they need some space. At the moment this is the best he can do. He curls himself into the backseat and falls asleep again with Lead Zeppelin lulling him all the way.


	17. Brightly Colored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They don’t have a lot of money left but they find something that doesn’t cost a thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So bare with me I’ve never been to a Pride parade or festival let alone this specific one in Missouri and I couldn’t find a lot on the internet so I just made it up. This is not a perfectly accurate description of this event

They lost too much time so they decide to skip New York and the rest of the east coast. They also lost too much money so any activity they do until they get home has to be free. They stop at a few free museums along the way but not much else. Dean firmly believes if he steps into another museum he’ll die. 

Sam mentions hiking and Dean shoots it down quickly. He doesn’t do shorts, and the only shoes he packed are his work boots. Cas backs him up as he only has dress shoes. 

His brother sulks in the back seat for a few towns. Dean reminds himself that he plans to take them to hike amongst the red wood trees in California when they do the west coast next summer. 

“We could go to pride.” Sam says nonchalantly. He sees the billboard too. It’s for Mid-Missouri Pridefest. 

Dean actually thinks about it. Sam and him had been before, years ago the summer before his sophomore year. It was a spur of the moment idea and they had had a lot of fun. Dean got six different numbers from six different hot people, and even ended up having a summer fling with one of them, Lydia with a last name he never learned. 

“What’d ya think, Cas?” Dean asks. 

“Um,” hesitation flashes across Cas’ face but it’s gone before Dean is really sure what he saw, “yeah, that could be fun.” 

“Columbia, Missouri it is!” Dean hollers and smiles at Cas brightly. 

It’s a quick forty five minute drive there. When they do arrive there’s little to no parking. 

“Dean, just park there.” Sam points out a spot that makes Dean cringe. 

“Dude, no way, there‘ll be hardly two inches on either side by the time we get the Camaro in there.” 

“We’ve been looking for fifteen minutes, just pick a spot!” Sam whines. 

“I do not want to repaint this car just because you couldn’t wait five minutes to find a good spot.” 

“Dean, what about that spot.” Cas points out a place between a BMW and a new Volkswagen. 

”That’s a good spot, thank you, Cas.” Dean shoots Sam a smirk on the rearview mirror. “See Sammy, Cas knows what he’s talking about.”   
Fact: parking next to nice cars decreases your chance of getting door dinged. 

Sam just grumbles as Dean parks the car. They pile put on stiff legs and stiffer spines. Stretching as they begin to walk, various joints pop and crack in relief of being moved. 

“Cas, hold up.” Dean stops them and walks about to the Camaro after they walked a short distance of only three cars away. 

He pops the trunk and begins to sort through his duffle bag. He can feel Sam and Cas trying to peer over his shoulder to see what he’s doing. It doesn’t take long for him to find what he’s looking for. 

“Here, put this on.” Dean offers one of his own gray t-shirts to Cas. “You’re going to ruin your shirt when you sweat through it.” 

Dean doesn’t try too hard not to ogle as Cas unbuttoned his white dress shirt and slip the t-shirt over his head. His boyfriend looks good in his cloths. Granted, it’s possible his boyfriend will look good in anything, or nothing at all. 

“Better?” Dean asks as Cas tucks the dress shirt into his suitcase. 

“Much, thank you.” Cas smiles at him Dean just about melts into a puddle at that gummy little smile of his boyfriend’s. 

“Can we go now?” San asks with a smirk that makes Dean’s little smile turn to a mild scowl. He feels the first retreats to his eyes and decides to make a home. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean waves Sam off and ruffles his hair. 

They begin walking again towards the festivities. Thankfully it seems to be spread out enough so it’s not too congested, however, there’s still enough people to set the fun mood so it doesn’t feel like a ghost town. There’s color everywhere and people smiling. It all makes Dean smile, he can forget somethings that there is such a large community of LGTBQ+ and allies, it’s nice to see. 

“You fellas look under dressed.” A woman walks up to them with a tight fitting tank top with the bi-sexual pride flag on it and brandishing her paint brushes. “You mind?” 

“Nope.” Dean drops a dashing smile that makes, Meg, her name tag reads, smile almost evilly. 

Dean follows her to a booth with a pride flag on it. He lets her sit him down on a stool. When he glances back at Sam and Cas, Sam has been ushered by a man to paint his own face.

“What’d ya want?” Meg asks as she opens her paints. 

“Bi flag, Miss.” Dean’s got an easy smile on his face. “No glitter, please.” 

“Come on, Dean, why not?” Sam teases from the other side of the booth. 

“Because that stuff got all over my baby.” Meg gives Dean an amused look so he adds, “my car.” 

“Sit still, kid.” The guy chides Sam who is snickering as he tries to paint in black. 

“Yeah, Sam.” Dean drawls. 

“You want anything, cutie.” Meg asks Cas as she gives Dean’s cheek a pat to indicate she’s done. 

Two bi flags sit on his cheeks proud and glitter free. Sam is done too and he’s got the word ALLY on one side in black. 

“No, thank you.” Cas says picking at the hem of his -Dean’s- shirt. 

Shit. 

Dean hadn’t thought about Cas being nervous about them and what other people may think or say or do. Dean has no clue about Cas’ background on the subject and he doesn’t know what his boyfriend is comfortable with or not. They haven’t talked about boundaries yet, and Dean’s been going around dropping kisses and-

All the worries are squeezed out of his racing mind with the squeeze of Cas’ hand covering his. A brush of a thumb across his tense knuckles and he’s relaxed. They’ll talk about it, not now, but they will. For now it’s okay. 

The three of them leave the booth, Cas and Dean’s hands are no longer linked but brush against each other every once in awhile. He tries to pretend butterflies don’t flutter in his stomach and his heart doesn’t sore at every touch. 

“Have you guys been here before?” Cas asks as they pass more booths. The crowd is beginning to thicken but Dean finds it bearable and Cas doesn’t seem tense either so they should be able to avoid any episodes. 

“Oh, yeah.” Sam smirks. “I mean not this one specifically, we went to the one in Topeka years ago.” 

“That’s a story.” Dean snorts at the memory. 

“I’d love to hear it.” Cas is eying the two brothers who are sharing a knowing look. 

“Okay,” Dean clears his throat dramatically and stifles a giggle, “so it was the summer before my junior year so I was like sixteen and Sam was about thirteenish-“

“I was twelve.” Sam provides ever so helpfully. 

“Whatever.” Dean rolls his eyes. “Anyway, so it’s my first summer with the impala and Sammy and I are bored and we decide to go to pride. I had come put that school year- and whatever, we went. So we have fun just taking it all in, hanging out. We ended up staying pretty late. This group we had met invited us to get food and drinks.” 

“They were so much older.” Sam says. 

“They were like in their early twenties.” Dean corrects. “The night goes on and I get a little drunk-“

“He was completely wasted after a beer and a tequila shot.” Sam adds. 

“Sam on the other hand,” Dean pointedly continues raising his voice to talk over his brother, “Sam was high as a kite from sitting with a group smoking pot. Not that my prude little brother would smoke, he just forgot about second hand smoke.” 

Cas is smiling that carefree smile of his that Dean is growing to love so much. His boyfriend is giving little laughs at the brothers’ bickering. Dean is trying to capture the moment in his mind like a camera. 

“It got really late and suddenly a deep voice called.” Dean lowers his voice as he continues the story. “Samuel and Dean Winchester!” The bar got dead quiet. I think he got like fifty gray hairs just from looking at us. I’m covered in glitter-still don’t remember why- and Sam is wedged in a crowded booth high as a kite without a shirt -we don’t know why about that either.

“So we are marched back to Dad’s truck and Dad starts just ripping into us. He’s going on about how we didn’t say where we were going or not being home before midnight. And I don’t know what he said but Sam starts giggling. Then I start. Next thing you know we’re literally wheezing we’re laughing so hard.” 

All three of them are laughing at the memory now. That had been a good night. Maybe not his most responsible night, but it had been fun. 

“Dad made us clean all the glitter out of his truck and keep the house spotless for six months after.” Sam recalled. 

“Hence no glitter this time.” Cas points out. 

“Exactly, that was a bitch to get completely gone.” Dean says just as his stomach gives a rumble. 

They find a food truck and buy hotdog meals that come with a bottle of water and a bag of chips. Passing booth and booth they eventually get to the parade. As politely as they can, they weave through the crowd to find a place to watch. 

Finally they find a hole that isn’t surrounded by people to watch the festivities. It’s entertaining, bringing Dean back to that care free night years ago. It’s all bright colors and acceptance, it fills him with pride. Dean guesses that’s kind of the whole point. 

At one point Cas excuses him to the bathroom. Dean watches him go and tries not to worry about Cas being out of his sight in the crowd. He has to try harder not to worry when Cas isn’t back in ten minutes. Dean allows himself to worry when Cas isn’t back in fifteen minutes. 

“I’m going to go check on Cas.” Dean tells Sam. “Don’t move.” 

Dean weaves through the crowd in the direction Cas went. He goes to the line of porta potties but Cas isn’t around. He attempts to not look like a creepier as he watches for each biffy to empty and be replaced by a new person to make sure Cas isn’t in one of them. 

He’s not, so Dean continues his search. He texts Cas a message asking where he is, no response. Then he calls Cas, straight to voicemail. 

Now Dean is really worried. He’s considering heading back to Sam and looking together when his phone buzzes. 

‘by pond’ Cas’ message reads. 

Dean takes off in the vague direction of the pond he saw when they were searching for a parking spot. 

He runs until he sees Cas sitting on a bench in front of a pond filled with ducks and geese. Dean’s shoulders relax and he gives a sigh of relief. 

“You scared me, angel.” Dean says as he walks up to Cas. “What are you doing here?” 

“I should have told you.” Cas says as he fiddles with the string at the hem of his, Dean’s, shirt. The string is significantly longer now and Dean makes a mental note to tell Cas he can keep it, he seems to like it. “I just needed to step away. It is all very overwhelming.” 

“Yeah, it can be.” Dean says as he sits next to his boyfriend. “Talk to me.” He demands gently. 

“My parents were not the most...supportive when they found out I was gay.” Cas explains. “My oldest brother told them he had seen me and my sort of boyfriend at the time kissing in the library.” 

“Classic make out spot.” Dean comments before he can stop himself. “Sorry; go on.” 

“It’s fine.” Cas sighs from somewhere deep. “My father left for a some business thing he created within the hour and my mother began looking for ways to fix me.” 

Cas adds air quotes around fix me and Dean can’t help but smile at the little quirk. He doesn’t think he’s ever going to tell his boyfriend that air quotes don’t belong in a verbal sentence. 

“First it was a priest, but the man began to talk about sheep and my mother immediately kicked him out for reasons unknown. Then there was a camp, I got myself sent home for fighting.” Cas ignores how Dean’s eyebrows shoot up. “Then she decided to fix me herself. We had daily meetings in her office about what is right and wrong about different things and about me. Finally my father came home about a year later, they had a discussion about me already being corrupted by the devil and there was no saving me. That was the end of it.” 

“Cas-“ Dean breaks off. He isn’t sure what to say. He can’t imagine what that would have been like. His dad isn’t a fan of his sexuality, but he doesn’t talk about it or really show his disapproval. Dean knows it’s there though and it hurts. Even without his dad’s acceptance he still had his mom, Sam, Bobby, Ellen, Jo, and all his close friends from school like Ash, Crowley, and Pamela when he had come out. 

“I know I’m not corrupted.” Cas says, squeezing Dean’s hand and meeting his eyes. “It’s just a lot to be shown you’re accepted.” 

“You’re family, Cas.” Dean finds his voice. “Sam looks at you like a brother. Family doesn’t end in blood. They care about you, to hell with who you’re attracted to. If you’re parents and siblings can’t accept you then they aren’t your family.” 

“I’m beginning to see that.” Cas leans in and kisses him softly just once. “Thank you, Dean.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Dean says as he rests their foreheads together.

“Yes you did.” Cas smiles. 

Dean still doesn’t understand but he drops it. Standing, he tugs Cas to his feet next to him. 

“Come on, dork. Sammy’s probably getting worried.” 

They walk hand in hand back to Sam who was eyeing his phone, most likely reading Dean’s text again as he waits for them. The relaxed mood continues only this time Cas is less tense. They enjoy the festivities for a little longer, laughing and smiling, before heading back to the car. 

They buy McDonalds for dinner on their way out of town, tossing their wrappers on the floor of the car. Sam drives the last two and a half hours home while Cas sits in the back. 

They’ll arrive home late after dropping Cas off at his apartment. Then Dean will have to work early in the morning. It’s worth it though. Cas is tucked into the back seat of the car and Sam is beside him. All three of them have content faces and are sipping leisurely at the relaxed atmosphere of the Camaro.


	18. Echoes from my Childhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s the Fourth of July, this holiday is special for the Winchesters. Dean just hopes he’ll be able to enjoy it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a little steamy make out session in the beginning but no actual smut

“Dean this is a terrible way to do business.” Cas repeats for the second time since Dean offered to change his oil and rotate his tires free of charge. 

It is the Fourth of July and they are in the empty auto shop before Cas has to leave for work. He’s is still a new employee and hasn’t built up seniority to get the holiday off. Dean and Sam are supposed to leave soon to go to Bobby’s annual BBQ in Nebraska. 

“I told you, babe, I don’t mind.” Dean grunts from under the vehicle. 

“Is Dr. Mills okay with this?” Cas asks, clearly concerned about Dean’s shoulder that had a bad day yesterday. 

“What Dr. Mills don’t know won’t hurt her.” Dean says flippantly. 

“No, but it could hurt you.” Cas says in that way where he is so bluntly caring. It makes Dean blush and or roll his eyes every time. 

“I’m fine, Nurse Rachet, I know what’s too much.” Not to mention he can barely stand Dr. Mill’s withering mom look when he does push it too far. 

Dean rolls out from under the car and stands. He plants a short kiss to Cas’ lips before leaning away and smiling. They’ve only been together for three weeks, but they have been some good three weeks. Arguably, just maybe, they have been the best three weeks of his life. 

“I can think of a way or two you can make it up to me.” Dean says with a smile. 

“Oh yeah?” Cas smirks and grabs at Dean’s ass. 

“I was thinking along the lines of dinner.” Dean laughs. “But I like your idea better.” 

“Hmm.” Cas just hums in response as he kisses Dean. 

Cas’ hands stay on Dean’s ass, drawing a moan from him as his boyfriend squeezes. Dean places his own hands in Cas’ unruly hair. He tightens his fists just a bit and swallow’s the moans this act is rewarded with. 

Their kiss is hot and messy. Dean rocks their hips together and Cas releases a deep groan of his own.  
He’s pushed up against the side of Cas’ pickup and he can’t help but groan as Cas moves his hands to grip tightly at Dean’s hips.

That’s part of what he loves about Cas. His boyfriend has the ability to go from awkward dorky guy who watches bee documentaries in fuzzy socks and a too big hoodie, to sexy top that makes Dean’s legs want to give out from under him. It’s amazing and they both love every second of their steamy times. 

“Dean,” Cas groans out before tangling their tongues together. 

“Dean?” This time it isn’t Cas that says his name. “Oh, god! My eyes!” It’s his brother. 

“What the hell, Sam?” Dean glares as Cas and him separate, their boners effectively rid of. “Ever heard of knocking?” 

“I’m sorry.” Sam drawls sarcastically, his back still turned to them. “I wasn’t expecting you guys to be doing...that at your work.” 

“We’re closed.” Dean opens the garage door for Cas’ vehicle. 

“The door was unlocked.” Sam points out, still not looking at either of them. “I’m waiting in the car. Dean, I swear if you-“

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean waves Sam off even though his prude of a brother isn’t facing him. 

“Thank you for the maintenance, Dean.” Cas kisses his cheek. The bastard does it just to make Dean blush. 

“Anytime, angel.” Dean smiles. “I’ll see you tomorrow night?” 

“Of course.” And with that Cas is driving away, catching Dean’s eye in the rear view mirror. 

“Vomit!” Sam gags from behind him. 

“I thought you were in the car.” Dean shoves his brother’s shoulder as he walks towards the front door. 

“You guys should be on a Hallmark movie or something.” Sam says as he follows Dean to the car. “It can be called “Two Dumbasses on Apricot Lane”.”

“Ha ha ha.” Dean drawls as he gets into the Camaro Sam drove over since Cas dropped Dean off at work after a breakfast date. “Just remember who you’re stuck in a car with for the next two hours. Choose your words carefully.” 

“I don’t know, Dean, I’d watch your own words.” Sam jingles the key to the Camaro, a reminder that he would be driving. 

The two hour drive to Uncle Bobby and Aunt Ellen’s house is filled with Sam’s blaring top 20 pop count down. It makes Dean’s ears bleed. Sam just smiles at him, as if Dean’s suffering causes him a concerning amount of pleasure. 

As soon as they leave the car Jo is on them like an excitable puppy. She has on a red, white, and blue tie-dye tank top and jean shorts. Her blonde hair is down and her eyes eyes are bright. 

“You guys take forever to get up here.” She complains as the boys follow her to the back yard where Bobby is standing at the grill watching his meat like a mother hawk. 

“We would have been here sooner if Dean wasn’t making out with his boyfriend.” Sam smirks at Dean’s death glare. 

“What? Boyfriend? When did that happen?” Jo demands. Dean continues to glare at his brother who walks off to help Ellen with something. “You don’t tell me anything anymore. You could be married and I wouldn’t know.” 

“We’ve only been dating for a couple of weeks.” Dean tries to work his way out of the sad doe eyed look his cousin is giving him. “You’ll meet him eventually. My parents haven’t even met him. The only reason Sam knows is we were friends for a bit before.” 

“Why didn’t you bring him around?” Jo presses but let’s Dean walk past her for a beer from the cooler. 

“He’s got to work.” Dean doesn’t mention the fact that he wants Cas to himself for just a little longer before everyone else finds out. They’re still learning and exploring each other and their relationship. 

“Having to work on such a holiday should be illegal.” Jo muses, grabs a pop from the cooler, and drops the subject. 

The Fourth of July is a special holiday for their family, well, for Jo, Sam, and Dean. When they were younger it was the only time they spent time together between Christmases. There was a time their mom had taken off and their dad and Bobby didn’t get along. They didn’t see each other for a year until the Fourth. They had spent the entire day running and swimming in the creek, enjoying fireworks, stuffing their faces, and being completely oblivious to the tension between the adults. 

Jo and Dean talk for a little bit before Sam seems to decide it’s safe for him to be with in an arm’s distance of his older brother again. They stand around and talk about Jo’s summer job at the Roadhouse, Dean’s college acceptance, and Sam’s lack of love life. 

“It’s hotter then hell out here.”  
Dean grumbles and finishes his beer off. “Let’s go swimming.” 

“Mom, we’re going swimming!” Jo shouts as the three of them make their way inside the house. 

Sam and Dean rush up stairs to the guest bedroom to grab their swim trunks they keep there. Quickly changing, they meet Jo at the edge of the driveway. 

Barefoot, they race each other across the road and the field before getting to where the river curls through the neighbor’s land. The old man who lived on the property hardly left his house and had always let the local kids swim in the river. 

Dean pushes Sam off the bank and straight into the river. His brother surfaces sputtering water and mild curses at him. Dean and Jo cackle on the sidelines. They’re tall enough to touch the sandy bottom now, for Sam and Dean the water doesn’t quite reach their chest, so Sam gains his foot and splashes at them. 

Dean and Jo dance out of the way of the splash. Jo strips out of her tank top and shorts to reveal her red, white, and blue bikini underneath before jumping in with Sam. She puts him in a headlock and dunks him under the water. 

Dean hesitates. He had left on his bright red shirt with a bald eagle wearing sunglasses on it. Now with the sun beating down on him and his brother and cousin splashing around in the river they have played in since they were in grade school he slips off his shirt and chucks it on the grass. Without giving his shoulder a second thought, he jumps. 

Sam and Jo giggle as his splash hits them. Both make a clear effort not to mention or look at his shoulder.

They spend a long time in the river. They dunk, splash, and play Marco Polo. They act like little kids until Ellen calls for them from across the road. Her voice carries all the way to them with little effort, it’s a motherly superpower. 

Racing one another back, Dean resists the urge to tug his shirt over his head. Instead he keeps it grasped tightly in his hand as he tries to out sprint Sam. It’s not a fair race, Sam does soccer while Dean did wrestling in high school. 

“Watch it, idgits.” Bobby growls as he narrowly avoids getting trampled by them. 

Sam and Dean’s parents had arrived sometime while they were swimming. Now Mom, Ellen, and Dad are setting food on the picnic table. 

Dinner is a quick affair. They devour Bobby’s burgers and Ellen’s pie, even Mom’s cookie salad is finished off. No one mentions the gnarled shoulder Dean has on full display. 

Afterwards the kids go back and swim for a little longer. Then they play very intense games of bean bags with the adults. Finally it’s dark enough for fireworks. 

“Dean, come help me with this.” Bobby calls from where he is heading to the garage to grab the fireworks. 

“Coming.” Dean says and follows his surrogate uncle to the garage. 

“Grab that box.” Bobby huffs to a box on the middle shelf. 

Dean grunts as he slides the large box off the shelf. His shoulder flares but he adjusts his grip until the weight is on his good arm. 

“Let’s see where that good lighter got to.” Bobby grumbles and begins searching the box. 

Dean searches idly around the garage. Finally he spots the ancient lighter tucked into a corner of the work bench. 

“Here.” Dean pulls it out and hands it to Bobby. 

“Trade ya.” Bobby hands Dean an envelope in return for the lighter. 

“What’s this?” Dean asks as he looks at the thin white envelope. 

“A pony. What’s it look like?” Bobby gruffs. “Open it.” 

The envelope isn’t sealed, so Dean opens it easily and is faced with the small piece of paper inside. He gives Bobby a confused look and he pulls out the paper. It’s a check. On the check has the number five hundred dollars scrawled on it. Dean’s eyes get big and his mouth gets dry. He has never held so much money in his hands 

“Bobby-“ Bobby and Ellen aren’t exactly swimming in money. Throwing five hundred dollars around is a stretch. 

“Just take it and shut up about it.” Bobby grumbles. 

“Thank you.” Dean carefully places the money back into the envelope and into the pocket of the jeans he had pulled back on along with his shirt when the mosquitos had started to nip at his bare skin. “Let’s go blow some stuff up.” 

They take the box out to the rest of the family. Dean still can’t believe in his pocket holds five hundred dollars. 

Dad takes the box from Dean and walks with Bobby to the edge of the backyard before it turns to open field. They stick one of the large fireworks on to a wooden board. The fuse is lit.

Dean takes a deep breath and holds it. He needs this. He can feel Sam next to him. The kid’s got tension rolling off his shoulders. Dean knows he’s not the same. He knows he will never be the same. But he’s tired of being afraid, and he just wants to enjoy this. 

A large boom, Dean flinches. He forces his eyes to stay open and he watched the dark sky fill with bright blue sparks. He waits for the panic and the terror but it doesn’t come. He smiles and laughs as he watches the sparks fill the night. 

The next one is lit, and the next. Sam is smiling next to him. He feels normal. By the third boom he doesn’t even flinch anymore. He stands in the yard with his family and watches the night sky fill with the magic of his childhood. 

Then his phone rings.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The phone call leaves Dean rushing to save the day. For once he gets to be the hero, now he just needs to remember how to be just that

“Hello?” Dean answers the phone. The screen shows an unknown number but it’s from somewhere back home. 

“Dean Winchester?” That voice sounds familiar, he can’t quite place it though. 

“Yeah.” Dean’s beginning to panic. He steps inside the house to be able to hear over the booming of fireworks in the yard. “Who’s this.” 

“Nora from the Gas N Sip. You were listed as Castiel’s emergency contact.” Dean’s heart stops. 

“Is he okay?” 

“Um, I don’t really know, but I think he may be having some sort of PTSD, uh, attack or something. He’s sitting under the front counter. I can’t get him to talk to me or move. I’m not sure what to do.” 

“Okay,” Dean forces himself to breath. “I’m on my way, give me an hour.” 

“Thank you, Dean.”

Dean slips his phone back into his pocket and heads back to the backyard. Sam is looking at him with concern. 

“Cas is fine. I think the fireworks in town set him off.” Sam’s shoulders loose their tension at his expiation. “I’m going to go. You okay to catch a ride with Mom and Dad?” 

“Yeah, I’ll see you at home?” Sam asks. 

“Yep, I’ll be back late.” Dean gives hugs to Ellen, Jo, and Bobby, nods to his parents, and slips out to the Camaro. 

Dean makes the nearly two hour drive in one. He’s surprised he doesn’t get pulled over. Weaving through cars, the Camaro flies through the rural midwestern United States. The sky is lit by fireworks on either side, like streetlights guiding the way. 

“Where’s Cas?” Dean asks as he bursts into the Gas N Sip. He had ignored the Back in Five Minutes sign on the door and is now scanning the area for his boyfriend. 

“He’s still under here.” Nora gestured to the space underneath of cash register. “I don’t mean to be insensitive, but this is normally a busy time for us.” 

“I’ll try my best.” Dean’s got more important things to worry about then some Smokey Joe needing another pack of Camels. 

He walks behind the counter and crotches down to see Cas shaking underneath. His six foot frame is tucked into the little space. It hurts Dean’s heart to see his boyfriend like this. 

“Cas?” Dean tries. 

Cas acts as if he can’t hear Dean. Another boom from the fireworks outside come and Cas flinches hard. His entire body contracts and shakes. 

“Hey, baby, I need you to come back to me.” Dean tries again, he’s at a bit of a loss on what to do. He’s not normally on this side of the road. “Hey Jude, don’t make it bad.” Dean begins to sing on a whim. 

Way back when he was really little his mom used to sing this song to him. When he grew out of it and Mom started disappearing Dean sang it to Sammy on nights when the kid couldn’t or wouldn’t sleep. He used to sing it to the girl in the cell next to him late at night when gun fire could be heard from outside. Now it’s all he can think to do to get through to his boyfriend. 

About half way through the song Cas’ eyes start to relax from their squeezed shut position. His shaking lessens if only minutely. Finally he looks at Dean with a bit of clarity in his beautiful blue eyes. 

“Dean?” Cas says like he just noticed Dean is there. He most likely did. 

“Hey there, angel.” Dean speaks softly. “You want to come on out of there? I’ll take you home.” 

“They’re falling, Dean.” Cas’ voice has dropped to almost a whisper. “They’re crashing to the earth.” 

“You’re not there, Cas. You’re safe.” Dean carefully reaches a hand out towards Cas. “Can I touch you, honeybee?” 

Cas leans into his touch and allows Dean to take his hand and guide him out from under the counter. He nods to Nora as they exit the Gas N Sip. He keeps a firm grip on his boyfriend’s shoulders, he hopes its grounding. It must work because when the next boom comes Cas flinches hard and shakes but he keeps moving. 

Dean tucks Cas into the passenger seat before heading to Cas’ apartment. They are about a block away from their destination when Cas speaks again. 

“I don’t deserve to be safe.” 

Dean doesn’t know what to say to that. He just swallows roughly and guides the car to Cas’ apartment. 

He wrestles Cas into the apartment building then up the stairs and into the apartment. The entire time Cas shakes and occasionally tries to pull them down to safety against invisible debris. 

“Dean?” Cas asks hesitantly. 

“Yeah, angel?” Dean says as softly as he can while taking the ugly blue Gas N Sip vest off his boyfriend’s shoulders. 

Cas opens his mouth, then closes it. He seems to change his mind about whatever he was going to say because he’s quiet for a while. 

“Why do you call me angel?” Comes out of Cas’ mouth while Dean is taking his dress shoes off. 

“Do you not know what your own name means?” Dean smiles and guides them to the couch. 

The fireworks still boom but they are muffled now. Dean flicks the television to the wild life channel. A documentary about giraffes is on. It doesn’t look very violent so he leaves it on. 

“I know what it means. Castiel angel Thursday, cover of God, or a variation of Cassiel; angel of temperance, tears, and presides over the death of kings.” Cas lists off. “How do you know what it means?” 

“I’m awesome.” Dean contemplates how deep he wants to get into it. Cas’ eyes are clearer then Dean has seen them the last half hour. His decision has been made for him. “When I was...fourteen? Yeah fourteen, because Sam was ten. Anyway, Mom and Dad had a huge fight. I don’t know what about, probably Dad’s drinking or who knows. So Mom left, took her bag and left. Dad didn’t take it well, when he wasn’t working he was drinking. Th-things were pretty rough, our power got turned off, I got a job and stopped going to school for a bit. That lasted a month or two before Pastor Jim, a family friend, came by and took Sam and me in for a bit. Living in a pastor’s house, you tend to pick up on a few religious things.” 

“What happened?” Cas asks, his head has lulled on to Dean chest. Dean’s arms are tight around where his boyfriend sits curled into his side on the couch. 

“Six months later Dad came back, apologized, he said he lost our mom but he couldn’t bear to loose us too. Things were good. Dad worked double shifts, but whenever he was home he was there, you know. A year later Mom came home and that was that.” 

They’re silent for a long while. Their eyes mindlessly watch the documentary. A baby giraffe takes its first steps. Dean can’t help but marvel at the awkward creature try to walk for the first time on it’s too long legs. That’s kind of how he has been feeling the last few months. 

That documentary ends and another one follows it about ants. Personally, Dean finds the millions of little bugs with their little legs and pitchers unnerving. He closes his eyes, just for a moment while the ants are carrying the dead wasp to their nest. 

Cas’ breathing has evened out and his dark hair is tickling his cheek. It’s nice. The soft spoken voice of the narrator fills the apartment. It’s warm, at some point Dean had thrown a soft blanket over their legs. 

Dean doesn’t want to leave Cas alone, not tonight, and not ever. He can’t control forever, but he can control tonight. Maneuvering awkwardly, Dean takes his phone out of his pocket and types a quick message to Sam. He sends it before he can allow his self hate to take hold and make him believe he’s being selfish. 

A moment later Sam’s “k sounds good” comes. It is quickly followed by a “jerk”. Dean replies with a “bitch” before flipping his phone over and setting it on the arm of the couch. 

He nuzzles his face into Cas’ hair and falls asleep. The distant sound of firework can be heard faintly. 

Later that night Dean will bolt awake from a nightmare with a scream on his lips. Cas will wordlessly tug them into the bedroom to his bed. Even though this is Dean’s first time sleeping over, he is very familiar with this piece of Cas’ furniture. He doesn’t fall back asleep again for a long time. Instead he listens to his boyfriend’s heartbeat into the early morning hours until his eyes close with the rising sun. 

For now he breaths Cas in, filling his lungs with simply and completely Cas, and lets himself fall into sleep.


	20. Wrapping Things Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean’s leaving for college is fast approaching. He just needs to make sure the people in his life aren’t feeling left high and dry

Dean smiles to Missouri as he leaves her office. She gives him a pointed look, a reminder of what he needs to do. Missouri waves to Sam in the waiting room before ducking back into her office. It’s been months and his little brother still comes with him to most of his appointments. 

“Hey,” Sam stands as Dean walks up to him. 

In the car Dean taps his fingers nervously against the wheel. He should do it now. He will do it now. Missouri knows him, she knows if Dean doesn’t do it right away he’ll never do it. 

“Hey, Sammy?” Sam turns his gaze from where it had been trained towards the window. “Uh, so I’ll be leaving for college soon and you should know that...” Screw it just spit it out, Winchester. “You know you can visit me whenever you want.” 

Dean and Missouri had decided that healthy boundaries between Sam and Dean would happen on their own. After he had slept over at Cas’ Sam had clung to his side as inconspicuously as he could. If they told Sam he couldn’t visit Dean as often Sam would feel neglected. It would make it worse. Missouri and Dean had talked extensively about the transition between living away from home, Sam, and Cas. They had needed to differentiate being away from home meaning that cell and at college. 

“I know.” Sam smiles tightly. 

“And I’ll be back a lot. Weekends and, hell, three months in and I’ll be back for all of December and half of January.” Dean continues. 

“Dean,” Dean pulls his eyes away from the road for a moment. “I’ll be fine.” 

“I know.” Dean waves off. “I just, Missouri- we- I- I just want you to know that I’m not-“

“Dean!” Sam says more forcefully. “You’re going to be fine.” 

“I know, but,” Dean thinks for a moment. “You don’t have to be.” 

Sam doesn’t say anything. They get home and just before Dean is about to leave the car Sam speaks. 

“Have you talked to Cas?” 

“It’s next on my list.” Dean smiles. 

The rest of the day Dean and Sam spend in the living room. Sam works on his homework for his AP class starting in September. It’s only the first week of August but his brother’s a nerd so what’re you going to do? 

Dean idly watches an old cowboy movie while flipping through a book. He’s just waiting for seven o’clock to come so he can go to Cas’. They plan on cooking and eating pasta before watching the latest Star Wars movie. 

Finally it’s six forty-five, Dean calls it good enough. He stands and stretches. Pushing his brother’s legs off the coffee table as he passes, he throws on his shoes, and grabs the movie he got from RedBox yesterday after work. 

“I’ll be back late.” Dean calls over his shoulder. He only hears a grunt in response from his brother. 

He sings the entire short ride to Cas’. Part of him is happy, the other part of him is nervous. He’s never really had to have a “where do we stand?” talk. It’ll be fine. He’s sure it’ll be fine. 

“Dean!” Cas greeted with a big smile. “Smell this!” 

“Oh,” Dean does a double take when his boyfriend shoved a small container of something under his nose. “I see we’re pass the part of our relationship where I get a kiss before you ask me to smell things.” 

“What?” Cas looks at him with that confused head tilt. “Oh, right.” He gives Dean a chaste kiss before shoving the bottle under Dean’s nose again. 

“It smells like an herb.” Dean says stupidly, not sure what Cas is looking for. 

“I know that!” Cas rolls his eyes and walks back into the kitchen. Dean follows, amused. “The label got torn off last time and I don’t remember which one this is.” 

“Okay, angel,” Dean chuckles a little to himself. “Take a breath, and smell this.” 

“I told you, I don’t know-“

“Just tell me what you think this smells like.” Dean says calmly. “Does it smell like pizza, or those enchiladas we made, or something else you recognize?” 

“Um,” Cas takes a whiff of the seasoning. “It smells like that pizza we made last week.” 

“Do you remember what we put on that?” Dean persuades. 

“Oh!” Dean can practically see Cas’ mind scrambling to remember. “It was, uh, oregano!”

“There ya go!” Dean praises, basking in the warm glow of his boyfriend’s victorious smile. “Okay, how about you brown the meat, and I chop the onions?”

“Dean, you remember what happened last time you had me brown the meat?” Cas asks nervously. “Can’t I boil the noodles?”

“You can’t learn anything new if you don’t try it.” Dean says and gently pushes Cas to the stove top. 

“I was burned, Dean.” Cas insistes. 

“It was a tiny blister.” 

“It hurt.” Cas pouts. 

“Didn’t you drag me out of a burning building?” Dean can’t stop the amused look.

“It was a collapsing building.” 

Instead of answering Dean kissing Cas. He can’t help it. It’s completely out of his control. The urge to kiss Cas is too strong for him to contain. 

“Just brown the meat.” He whispers against the Cas’ lips. “I’ll be here the whole time. Do you want to start the noodles or should I?” 

“I can, but you’ll have to tell me when it’s simmering.” 

“Can do.” Dean nods and pulls out a cutting board and knife. 

They work in harmony. Moving around each other like they’ve been doing it for years. It eases Dean’s nerves. 

When the pasta is plated and a candle lit because, hey, Dean can be romantic, they begin to chat about everything and anything. Dean does try to be hundred percent presence. Yet the longer the night goes on the sooner he has talk to Cas. He promised himself he would do it before the movie. 

“Dean?” Cas startles him from his thoughts. 

“Sorry, what?” 

“What’s on your mind?” Dean tries not to squirm under Cas’ intense gaze. 

“So,” Dean moves his fork about his plate. “I’m leaving for college in two weeks, and I was just wondering if maybe we need to, or if you think maybe, we should talk about us?”

“I didn’t think there was anything to discuss.” Cas sets down his silverware. 

“I don’t want to break up.” Dean bursts out before regaining his brain. “I like how this is going. I just don’t want anything left out in the open.” 

“Okay.” Cas looks uncertain, but less scared then when Dean first began this topic. “What is there left “in the open”?” 

“I’m going to be visiting, a lot.” Dean starts. “And we’ll call and text and...stuff. I just-I just don’t want you to think I’m leaving you, or out there fooling around with someone else.” 

“I assumed that nothing would change except that you wouldn’t be around as much.” Cas sits straighter in his chair. 

“I-I’m messing this up. Missouri was just saying I should tie up loose ends and make sure everyone’s on the same page.” 

“So your therapist thinks I’m going to stop trusting you just because you’re not living five minutes away anymore?” Cas voice is rising. “You’re taking her word over mine?” 

“That’s not what I’m saying!” Dean snaps. 

“Then what?” Cas snaps back just as heatedly. “What are you saying?”

“I- I don’t know!” Dean throws his hands up. “It made sense earlier. I went through this with Sam-“

“What did you go through with Sam?” Cas has an eyebrow raised that Dean doesn’t appreciate. 

“Just that he can visit me and I’m not leaving him! I’m not leaving you!” Dean is standing now, too worked up to remain seated. Cas stands with him. The candle has been blown out by their shouting and exasperated hand gestures. 

“The only person who thinks you’re leaving anyone is yourself. I’m getting tired of you always assuming the worse of everyone including yourself.” 

“I’m sorry I’m trying to make sure our relationship is okay. I’m leaving in two weeks and we hadn’t talked and I’ve never done this before.” 

“You never want to talk. You’re toxic masculinity gets in the way of any important conversation. What made you think our relationship was anything but okay? Or is that another thought your therapist put in your head?” 

“I wouldn’t even be going to a therapist if it wasn’t for everyone in my life thinking I need to be fixed!” 

“Maybe you should actually say no for once instead of letting your kid brother push you around!”

“You wanted me to continue with Missouri! It was your idea to apply to KSU!” Dean slams a fist on the table, making the silverware chatter against the plates. 

“I just wanted you to achieve something! You can’t just sit around, living in your parent’s house, fixing cars part time for minimum wage for the rest of your life.” 

“Says the guy who works at a gas station and is too afraid to do anything else!” 

“The only reason I’m in this stupid town is because I love you!” 

The air escapes Dean. Him and Cas stand across the small table from each other, just breathing and staring. 

“Y-You love me?” Dean stammers out. 

“Of course I do.” Cas rolls his eyes. 

“I-“ Dean swallows, his mouth suddenly dry. “I love you too.” 

Cas’ icy eyes melt, and his shoulders slump. Dean moves around the table and hugs Cas tightly. 

“Let’s clean up and watch Star Wars.” Cas says, placing a kiss on to Dean’s cheek. 

“Yeah, okay.” 

The separate and clean up the kitchen in silence. Cas packs up the left overs while Dean washes the dishes. They’re quiet, too quiet, but Dean can’t think of anything to say. 

Soon enough they’re cuddling on the couch. Dean has their legs tangled together on the coffee table and his head on Cas’ shoulder. With a sigh Cas presses play on the movie and rests his head on top of Dean’s. 

“Cas?” Dean asks as the opening credits begin. “I’m sorry.” 

“Me too.” Cas says softly into his hair.

Dean lets the tension fall away. He’s running out of time. In two weeks he leaves for college. Thats’s two weeks left of these tri-weekly date nights. He’s got to savor them.Dean wiggles impossible closer into Cas, places a kiss on to the shoulder near his lips, and watches the movie unfold.


	21. To Begin Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean’s off to college! They are all learning that temporary goodbyes are the hardest to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being patient everyone, this took me so much longer then it should have

Today is the day. It feels...right, for lack of a better word. Right. It feels as if he’s shedding an old skin. It hurts a bit, and it’s scary, but not forced or unnatural. 

Sam had woken Dean early so they could have a slightly awkward morning breakfast with both of their parents before they loaded Dean’s stuff into the back of Baby and Cas’ pick up truck. It was strange to pack Dean’s entire life into bags. 

It’s not like when the brothers had packed for Dean’s BT training. Then everything had be contained into a single duffle with a strict checklist. Now almost everything comes except for the furniture. 

“Okay,” Dean says with an air of finality as he tosses his last garbage bag of cloths into the back of Cas’ pick up. “I think that’s it.” 

“Drive safe.” His mom hugs him tight. Dad gruffly pats his good shoulder and nods at Cas before heading back inside. 

Yep. Both Winchester parents have met the famous Cas. They don’t know Cas saved Dean, but they do know they are in a relationship. Dad had shaken Dean’s boyfriend’s hand firmly while Mom had simply smiled politely. It was as successful of a first meeting as one could ever hope with the Winchester parents. 

Dean and Sam pile into the impala and they leave their childhood home behind them. He catches a soft blue gaze in the vehicle trailing him. 

The two hour car ride seems too short to be as monumental as it is. Dean blasts his music and makes faces with Sam at Cas behind them. It’s a fun ride. It helps keep Dean’s nerves in check. 

They pull up to the college. There’s people everywhere. Dean puts Baby in park and his knee begins to bounce. His eyes dart around, trying to count the number of people, possible exits, and- 

No. 

Forcing himself to move, Dean turns the impala off and steps out of the car. Cas parks next to them and his boyfriend is quick to be at Dean’s side. He releases a breath as he grasps Cas’ hand. 

“Okay,” Sam announces, his eyes trained on h color coded schedule. “First we need to get you checked in and then we have to-“

“Sam?” Dean’s grateful for when Cas steps in. “One step at time.”

“Oh, right, okay.” Sam tucks his notebook under his arm in favor of pulling out the map him and Sam had highlighted. “The office is this way.” 

Dean squeezes Cas’ hand and they follow his brother towards the admissions office. If he didn’t know any better he would have thought Sam is the freshman not Dean. 

They make their way through the checklist, Sam enthusiastically checking off each little box as they go. Soon enough they are on their way to Dean’s new room with arms full of garbage bags of his stuff. 

“Here we are.” Sam says grandly as they stop in front of a closed door. 

“Right.” Dean nods, his bad arm is flaring but he can’t bring himself to move. “Here we are.” 

“Dean, do the honors.” Cas presses. 

“Okay.” Dean swallows and shuffles his bags so he can grab the door handle. Without allowing another thought Dean pushes open the door. 

The first thing he sees is a red headed girl placing a Hermione Granger bobble head on the desk on the right side of the room she has seemingly claimed. 

“Oh, hi!” The girl pulls off her headphones and smiles at them. “Which one of you is Winchester, Dean?” 

“Uh, me.” Dean waves his hand awkwardly from his armful of stuff. 

“Star Wars or Star Trek?” She asks seriously. 

“Star Wars?” Dean answers confused. 

“DC or Marvel?” 

“DC,” Dean lets a cocky grin form. “Because Batman, duh.”

“Meh.” Dean scoffs at the nameless girl. “Harry Potter: books or movies?” 

“Books, always, but those movies are pretty good.” 

“We’re now best friends.” The girl declares. “I’m Charlie, your roommate obviously. I was going to let you choose what side first but I couldn’t wait anymore.”

“That’s fine.” Dean smiles. “This is my brother and my boyfriend.” 

“Hi!” Charlie smiles brightly. “Well, I’ll leave you guys to unpacking. I promised my parents a tour and dinner. We’ll catch up later, yeah? Party hop?” 

“Yeah, okay.” Dean can’t help but smile back at his new friend. 

“She seems nice.” Cas says after Charlie had bounced out of the room. 

“Yeah.” Hope I don’t scare her off after the first night. Dean adds internally. 

They get to work unpacking and putting together Dean’s new room, well, half a room anyway. Sam takes it upon himself to organize Dean’s school supplies and desk. 

“Nerd.” Dean mutters as Sam color codes Dean’s brand new notebooks. 

“Says the one alphabetizing his Vonnegut novels.” Sam snorts. 

“Shut up.” Dean retorts lamely, turning back to his little bookshelf he’s stuffing full of novels. 

“I hope you’re taking a class on better comebacks.” Sam volleys cheekily. 

“I hope you’re blah blah blah.” Dean raises his voice two octaves to mimic Sam’s. 

“Stop it you two, or I’ll leave you both here.” Cas warns with a barley contained smile from where he is placing Dean’s cloths into a dresser. 

He knows for a fact there are two missing sweatshirts and a few shirts from his wardrobe. Dean had discreetly left his high school wrestling sweatshirt at Cas’ apartment two days ago, and he knows his boyfriend stole more then one t-shirt from him. 

He also knows Sam has the super soft grey sweatshirt that Dean had adopted from Dad after Dean’s battle with the chicken pox and has since been passed between the brothers. Dean had pretended not be notice Sam sneak it out of his closet and to the bottom of his own dresser. 

They finish putting Dean’s new room together in companionable silence aside from the Lead Zeppelin tape Dean put it. There’s not too much to chat about. They’ve spent the better part of the last few months together. In all honesty Dean’s a little worried about Sam’s lack of social life, but he figures that’ll sort itself out once school kicks into gear. 

“Dean.” Dean’s head snaps up at his name coming from Cas. “I think the pillow is fluffed.” Dean’s cheeks slightly flush as he sets the pillow down that he has been fiddling with for who knows how long. 

Glancing around he notices the room has been put together. The bed has been made, the desk is meticulously put together by Sam, and all his little nick-nacks are in their new homes. 

“Well, you guys should get going. It’ll be rush hour soon.” Dean rubs at the back of his neck. 

“Yeah, I guess.” Sam sighs and sets down a small container of highlighters Dean isn’t sure where he got from. 

They walk to Cas’ pick up. It’s still fairly busy but it’s easier to weave through people when you don’t have arms full of stuff. He feels more then sees Sam take a few steps towards the car to give him and Cas some privacy.

“I love you.” Dean says, because they do that now, and pulls Cas into a hug. “I’ll see you in a few weeks.” 

“Of course.” Cas smiles. “I love you, too.” Dean doesn’t think those words will ever not make butterflies flutter inside of him. “I’m proud of you.” 

“Thanks for everything.” Dean kisses him just once. 

“I’ll be in the car, Sam.” Cas says after clearing his throat as Sam walks back over to Dean. 

“Hey, I’ll see you in a few weeks, okay?” Dean tries to make eye contact with Sam who is kicking at the pavement. 

Nodding mutely, Sam takes a single step forward and hugs Dean tight. His big little brother tucks himself underneath Dean’s chin and breaths deep. Squeezing his eyes tight, Dean holds Sam close for a long moment or two... or three. 

“I want to hear everything.” Dean says as he pulls away. “And you better get into some trouble, no more of this goody-too-shoes crap. You hear me?” 

Sam gives a laugh and nods. 

“And let Cas pick the music on the ride home. Your taste sucks, and you need some culture.” 

“Okay, Mr. It’s Not Music If It’s Made After 1995.” 

Dean laughs and pulls Sam into one more hug. He’s not sure who pulls away first. They both seem to make the decision to step away at the same time. 

“Keep up on your appointments, Missouri and Dr. Mills will call me if you miss one.” Sam says sharply as he walks backwards to Cas’ pick up truck. 

“Yes, mom.” 

“And eat a vegetable every once in a while.” 

“Bitch.” Dean calls as Sam gets to the passenger side of the pick up. 

“Jerk.” 

Dean watches for a moment as the rusty blue pick up truck drives away with his brother and boyfriend inside. He waves and the smile on his face isn’t strained. It doesn’t feel as if he has been left behind. 

“Winchester!” He jumps and his head turns towards the sound of his name. He spots Charlie multiple paces away with a small, relatively unthreatening group of people. “You ready?”

“Yeah!” Dean calls as he begins to walk over. “I’m ready.” He says quieter, more to himself then anyone else. 

With one final glance over his shoulder he walked over to the small group with a smile. He’s ready for the new chapter of his life with whatever it may bring. His shoulder aches distantly, but his steps are sure and his smile is genuine. He’ll be okay and even if he’s not he’ll have people in his life who will be there either way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be the last chapter before the epilogue, I haven’t decided yet :p


	22. Epilogue: Last Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four months later...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, thank you all for you readers!!!!

Sam leans over his textbook, floppy hair concealing most of his face. He can’t bring himself to actually comprehend any of it. The seventeen year old’s ears are straining for sounds of the impala. 

“Sam?” Dad is standing in his doorway.

“Yeah?” Sam asks with his eyes locked on the page. 

“Your mom is starting to roll out cookie dough.” 

“Okay, I’ll be right down.” Sam waves off. 

“Sam.” Dad’s stern voice makes an appearance and Sam can’t help his eye roll. 

“Last page, promise.” Sam tears his eyes away to fix his puppy dog eyes on his dad. 

A familiar rumbling sound interrupts whatever Dad had opened his mouth to say. Sam sprints past his dad and down the stairs. 

He’s too focus on seeing his brother to notice his dad’s smile. It isn’t like Sam hasn’t seen his brother, it’s only been a month. He was supposed to be back earlier today, but traffic had been terrible after the ice storm last night. 

Sam makes sure Dean sees him in the doorway, before tackling him in a hug. Now they have a routine, a system, for their embraces Sam tucks his head under his brother’s chin allowing his big brother to pull him down to his level. 

“Did you grow again?” Dean asks as he pulls away. “I swear if you fuc-“

“Dean.” Mom comes up behind Sam to warn him about his language. 

Dean gives their mom a hug after smiling guiltily. Only now does Sam notice Cas standing behind Dean. Sam gives him a quick hug too. 

Since Dean left for school him and Cas gotten closer. Sam had sprinted the twelve miles to Cas’ apartment at two in the morning a week after Dean had left and had slept on the couch. 

“Your mother is starting cookies without you.” Dad says as he comes downstairs. 

“I am not.” Mom’s got a loving look in her eye that Sam feels isn’t there enough. 

The rest of the night is full of laughter and soft smiles as they make cookies. Dean eats the limbs off before they decorate, causing them to become zombie gingerbread men. Cas proves incompetence at decorating as his cookie men and woman are covered in thick blobs of frosting with large piles of sprinkles. 

They all go to bed with light hearts that Christmas Eve. It’s a stark contrast to the Christmas Eve only a year ago. Sam sleeps easily alone in his own bed as he has been doing for months now. Dean is also alone in his own bed as Mom had taken it upon herself to set Cas up on the living room couch wanting to avoid any non G rated activities. 

Sam wakes at 6:39 and forces himself to wait twenty minutes before padding his way to his brother’s room. He clutches a paper folded into quarters in his hand. 

“Dean?” Sam ducks his head into his brother’s room. 

Dean is sitting up in his bed cross legged as he watches large fluffy flakes fall from the still dark sky outside his window. His head snaps towards Sam before he smiles lightly and pats the space next to him. 

“Merry Christmas, Sammy.” Dean says as Sam folds himself next to his brother. 

“Merry Christmas.” Sam lays his head on his brother’s shoulder. 

They sit quietly and watch the snow fall for a few peaceful moments. Sam just about falls back asleep before he remembers his gift. 

“Here.” Sam hands Dean the paper. 

“What’s this?” 

“Open it, jerk.” Sam sits back so he can watch his brother’s face. 

Dean’s breath catches when he unfolds the paper. Apprehension sits heavy in his stomach as he scans his brother’s face for anger, betrayal, or any other emotion. At last all he finds is pride and love. 

“Did you send it in already?” Dean asks. 

“Yep, no backcies.” Sam smiles. “Don’t read it now, but eventually if you want to. I mean it’ll be read by esteemed professors who hold my future in their hands-“ 

Sam doesn’t think he could watch his brother read his college application essay to Stanford he had poured every fiber of his being into. It is too much, too early, too peaceful. 

“I’ll read it. If it’s good enough for some fancy ass professor it’s good enough for me.” Dean smiles and sets the paper on his nightstand. 

They sit there for a little while longer simply inhaling the movement and holding it tight. Sam almost wants to cry. Just a year ago he had been sitting on this bed alone, mourning a dead brother. Now he sits watching the snow fall with Dean who is very much alive. 

Dean, always in tune with Sam’s thoughts and feelings, slings an arm around him and squeezes. Eventually the sun rises in a pink halo and spreads a glow across the room. 

“Let’s go save Cas from a very awkward conversation.” Dean says just as voice are heard from downstairs. 

They find Cas sitting on the couch in a nest of blankets with a mug of coffee watching the snow from the large windows facing the front of the house. Dean grabs coffee for himself and Sam before sitting next to his boyfriend with his feet tucked under Cas’ legs. Sam sits on his brother’s other side. 

As they watch the snow fall to the music of Mom and Dad making breakfast, Sam’s mind wanders to the folded paper upstairs. It’s not full of any new profound findings, it won’t surprise Dean in any way. 

He recalls the last paragraph. It had eluded him for a long time, toying at the corners of his mind so he couldn’t grasp it. Finally it had come to him after a night spent on Cas’ couch trying to remember how to breath. 

He had written: What stories neglect to tell us is what we do after a miracle, what it costs, and how to establish to a new normal. Living in the aftermath of a miracle, as I have, is the only way one finds answers to these questions. The answer simply stated is to revel in the pure astonishment that comes with the universe’s personal gift to you. The last bit is hard: allow the gift room to grow and take it’s own shape. 

With a small smile Sam concludes holiday season isn’t so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to those who gave kudos and comments, you turned this work into what it is!! 
> 
> Feel free to read any of my other works (my shameless little plug;))


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